


The Bomb

by sixer (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien/Human Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), F/M, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, M/M, Non-Accidental Baby Acquisition, On Hiatus, Season/Series 01, Single Parents, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Space Mom Allura (Voltron), THESE ARE REAL IMPULSE POSTING HOURS YALL, Telepathic Bond, Unplanned Pregnancy, ish?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 17:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sixer
Summary: In a more NC-17 show where Pidge says fuck, Shiro is allowed to rest, and Lance is Captain Kirk-ing his way across the universe, our loverboy accidentally knocks up an alien girl. with the baby left at his metaphorical doorstep, Lance takes responsibility. With Team Voltron thrown into disarray, they decide to step up and provide their assistance.It takes a village to raise an idiot, after all.And Lance's baby needs some proper parental guidance, too.





	1. Little Boy

**Author's Note:**

> so.....instead of writing a proper fic........i did this. sue me
> 
> and here's a fun note: if you decide to invest in this, i wouldn't go too far. it's unfinished, and that's more than likely for the rest of eternity. i don't write for voltron anymore, but it's still got its hooks in me, so fanon is my city now. 
> 
> posting this ancient thing from 2017 to try and relive my glory days. #justwashedupthings  
> note: i did go back and edit this before posting, adding in some kind of spoiler-y stuff (references to things found in s7, or interviews that came at a later date, etc.) 
> 
> i hope you enjoy it regardless? it'll probably be gone within the day
> 
>  
> 
> warning: emetophobia in this chapter

* * *

 

 

"Keith, do you think you could go fetch Lance?" Allura asked, glancing down at the ticker in her hand. "He's fifteen dobashes late. Again."

Keith looked up from where he sat on the floor, polishing the blade of his luxite sword. "Why me?" he asked.

"Because Pidge and Hunk are..." Allura glanced over at the other three paladins. Shiro was kneeling on the ground between Pidge and Hunk, both of whom were struggling through push-ups. He held a ticker of his own, encouraging both of them to the best of his ability, but Keith could tell it was painful to watch. "Erm."

"I see." With a reluctant glance back dow at his sword, Keith stood and straightened, brushing off the back of his pants. "Okay, I'll go tell Lance he can moisturize later. Be back in five."

Allura gave him a thumbs up, the newest human gesture she'd taken to using. Last time, she'd been under the weird impression that raising just the middle finger was a good gesture, and she'd decided to whip that tidbit out when convening with Kolivan from the Blade of Marmora. Shiro'd nearly had a heart attack, and had lectured all of them about teaching the Alteans bad Earth customs; mostly Lance and Pidge, but all of them, nonetheless.

Keith strode out of the training hall, the anguished sounds of Pidge and Hunk growing muffled as the doors slid shut behind him. Rounding the corner, he walked down familiar corridors, finally reaching the wing where their private rooms lie. Wandering down the corridor, he passed the door to his own quarters, and slowed to a stop right in front of the last door on the left. The plaque nailed to the wall next to the door, silver with Lance's name engraved in its surface, gleamed and reflected Keith's own uncertain-looking face back at him.

Keith scowled at his own expression, schooling it into a neutral frown. He raised his hand and pounded on Lance's door, three quick raps of his knuckles, before he could overthink it. "Lance!" he called, knocking again when nobody answered. "Are you in there? You're late for training!"

 _Probably wearing headphones to sleep again,_ Keith thought, shaking his head. He reached out and pressed his palm against the pad beside the door. Infrared light scanned over his gloved hand, reading his genetic data even through the webbing of the undersuit, and the doors slid open as his signature was approved by the computer.

Keith staggered as the doors hissed open, a wall of powerful smells hitting him with the force of a freight train. "Lance...?" he called, peering into the dark room. He squinted, trying to make out the dark shapes on the bed, but a familiar voice moaned from the ensuite bathroom, and he turned his attention to there instead. "You okay in there..?"

"What do _you_ think, mullet?" came the snappy reply. The weak comeback would've been the most alarming thing, but the sickly belch that punctuated it surpassed that. A wave of nausea rolled over Keith as the sound of retching reached his ears. It ended soon, with a weak cough and the flush of the toilet.

Keith peered around the doorframe. On the ground sat the slumped figure of Lance, wearing loose blue boxer shorts and pale cheeks. His arms were supported on the seat of the toilet, legs loosely curled up beneath him, and his head rested sideways, half-hanging down into the bowl.

Lance's eye cracked open when he heard Keith enter the bathroom. "Come to make fun of me?" he asked hoarsely. "To tell me this is what I deserve for making fun of you so much?"

"What? No." Keith furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would I ever do that?"

Lance managed a halfhearted shrug. "You tell me, discount John Stamos."

Keith scowled and crossed his arms. "I wasn't before, but now I _might_ make fun of you a little," he said. Lance snorted, saying something low that sounded something like 'typical', and Keith rolled his eyes. "You were late to team-building exercises. I drew the short straw and came to check up on you."

"Figures." Lance sighed and straightened from his hunched-over position. He winced, several of his joints popping and snapping as his back stretched. "Before I ran in here, I caught a glimpse of the clock. I've been looking at the inside of this porcelain throne since the space equivalent of five AM, Keithy boy. You think I'm gonna remember what time team-building exercises are when I've been puking my guts out for four hours straight?"

Keith frowned at his hostility. "Hey, don't take it out on me. It's not my fault you're sick."

Lance lowered his head back onto his arm, face growing stormy as his abdomen churned once more. "I'm sorry," he said shortly. "It's been a long, hard morning for me."

The sincerity hidden beneath his sardonic-sounding apology made Keith soften. "It's okay, I get it." He frowned and leaned up against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "What do you think it is?"

"Demons, probably."

The dry reply made Keith chuckle. He caught the corner of Lance's mouth, curled up into a smile, before it vanished beneath the stormy determination of a trooper. "Hang in there," Keith encouraged. "Space-flu won't last forever."

"Easier said than done." Lance turned his head away and mumbled against his arm, mouth hindered by the crook of his elbow. "Oh, no... _Padre todopoderoso y lleno de misericordia, expulsa de mí toda enfermedad. Restaura la fuerza en mi cuerpo y_ \--"

Keith screwed his eyes shut and turned away as Lance heaved and lurched over the toilet once more, swallowing hard against the taste of bile that rose into his mouth. "Right," he managed through gritted teeth. "I'll just...  I'll tell the team you can't make it today."

Lance's pathetic groan echoed, and he re-emerged from the toilet bowl, wiping his mouth against his wrist and resting his flushed cheek against the cold toilet seat. "Thanks, man," he mumbled, too tired to coherently speak. "When you can, send Hunk in here? Tell him this is something vapor rub can't fix. And maybe ask him to spot me some water and crackers, if you can."

Keith briefly wondered how much vapor rub _could_ fix. "I'll tell him."

Lance closed his eyes. "'preciate it."

"Feel better, Lance." He backed out of the ensuite bathroom, fighting back another wave of nausea, and practically ran from the room. Keith's roiling stomach quickly settled down as he returned to the training deck, no longer surrounded by the powerful stench of sickness.

 

* * *

 

 

When he entered the hall, Pidge and Hunk were seated on the ground, touching their toes and watching Shiro effortlessly do push-ups with his Galra arm tucked behind him. Shiro looked up in the middle of one rep when Keith walked in; sitting neatly on his back, Allura glanced up from the ticker she held in hand. "Keith!" she called out. "Did you find out why Lance is so delayed?"

"He's not running late on moisturizing, is he?" Hunk asked. "He should've been done with that twenty minutes ago. I hope he didn't spill the cream again."

"Or did he forget to set his alarm for the fifth time?" Pidge guessed with an eyeroll.

"None of those things. He's sick." Keith folded his arms, shifting his weight onto one foot.

Shiro frowned and lowered himself back down to the ground. Allura, on cue, gingerly got up from her place on his back, and he straightened up to full height once more, rolling his shoulders and flexing his arms. "Sick?" he repeated.

"As a dog," Keith confirmed. "He threw up, like, three times during the five minutes I was there. Been like that since five in the morning, according to him." His eyes slid over to Hunk, who'd gotten to his feet, eyebrows already furrowed with worry. "He said to tell you 'this is something vapor rub can't fix.' Whatever that means."

Hunk's eyes widened. "Vapor rub can't fix this? Good ol' Vicks?" he asked incredulously. When Keith nodded, he whistled in disbelief. He shot Shiro and Allura an apologetic look. "I've gotta go help him, then. Can I take a raincheck on the team-building exercises today?"

Shiro nodded his acquiescence. "Of course. Tell Lance we all wish he gets better soon."

Before Hunk departed, Keith added, "He also asked for some water and crackers. Make sure you're prepared, it's pretty bad in there."

Hunk shot them all a thumbs-up. "I've known Lance since we were nine. I've seen way worse than this, I'm sure." He turned to briskly jog out of the room, waving over his shoulder. "Good luck with the exercises! I'll update you guys in a little while, 'kay?"

Shiro's frown deepened as Hunk disappeared, the doors sliding shut behind him. "I hope it's nothing serious," he said. His forehead wrinkled a little more. "Or contagious. The last thing we need is for everyone to have space-flu, or space food poisoning, or whatever could've made him so sick."

"Coran should run some scans on him, to try and see what it is," Pidge suggested. "Probably while he's zonked out. He hates the adhesive on the electrodes 'cause it ruins his silky skin."

"Good idea, Pidge." Allura nodded at the green paladin's idea. "I'll ask him to prepare the medical equipment." She wrinkled her nose. "And I'll let him know that it's 'pretty bad in there'," she added, echoing Keith's phrasing. "...why do earthlings call it 'throwing up'?"

Shiro shook his head as Pidge tried to explain it to her. "Let's all take that raincheck today," he said. "We can't exactly work on team-building with two of our members absent, so we might as well disband for the afternoon and work independently."

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Pidge clicked her tongue and saluted him, already jogging toward the entrance to the training deck. Allura threw him an amused glance as she too made her way out, turning the corner and going to inform Coran of the situation.

Shiro sighed, letting his weary head fall back.

He _really_ hoped it wasn't space-flu.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance collapsed on the ground beside Hunk, leaning back against the wall and groaning. "I'm beat," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. Wincing, he rolled his ankles. "My feet are freakin' killing me, man. I'm not sure how much longer I can go on."

"Why are your feet hurting? These boots have, like, crazy good support," Hunk remarked. He stamped the ground a couple of times, as if demonstrating the 'crazy good support' he'd praised. "The Alteans really got the whole 'comfort AND functionality' thing figured out. We have _rockets_ in our shoes!"

"I know! That's why I'm so confused." Lance pulled one lanky leg closer, deftly unbuckling the armored boot strapped to his shin, and gingerly slid it off. He unzipped the undersuit near his ankle and gently cradled his newly exposed foot, hissing as he took in the sight. Hunk's eyes widened. " _Jesús María y José_ \-- when the fuck did _this_ happen?!"

"Dude, did you sprain your ankle or something?" Pidge walked over as he slid the knee-high boot off, bending over to observe his ankle. "That's crazy swollen, Lance."

Lance shot her a deadpan look. "Great observation." He hissed when she leaned down and gently prodded his skin with her probing fingers. "Ow, hey! _Why_ would you ever think that's a good idea, and _why_ would you poke so hard?! Just _why_?"

Pidge shrugged and stepped back. "Just trying to feel if anything feels off," she said. It almost felt like an apology. _Almost_ , Lance thought with an eyeroll.

"You okay, Lance?" Shiro's voice echoed across the room, and the younger trio all looked up from Lance's swollen foot. The other three paladins were training with the Level 4 gladiator, whip cracks and blade slices mingling with battle cries. Keith and Allura danced around each other as they fought, ducking and rolling beneath each other's strikes. Shiro was observing from off to the side, spotting them and making helpful suggestions. "What's going on?"

Hunk straightened and waved him over. "Lance said his feet were hurting really bad, so we checked 'em out," he said, catching Shiro up to speed as the black paladin bent over with the rest of them. "His ankles are super swollen, that's why he's been so off today."

Lance drew his exposed foot closer to himself, almost hiding it beneath his hands as Shiro studied his foot. "I-it's no big deal," he shrugged off, zipping the leg of his undersuit back up. "I just needed a little break. I can get back to training in just a minute!"

Shiro shook his head. "No can do, Lance. I appreciate your dedication, but that ankle looked pretty bad. I think you should take the rest of the day off and put some ice on that."

"But I can't skip any more training!" Lance argued, pulling his boot back on with a wince of pain. "I already missed a few weeks of it, back when I was sick! If I fall any more behind--" He swallowed thickly, eyes downcast and averted. "...I'll do nothing but slow the rest of you guys down."

"Lance." Shiro kneeled down and put his hand on Lance's shoulder, eyes firm but reassuring. "You're not going to slow us down because you were sick."

"Shiro is right, Lance." Allura strode over, pressing a button on the side of her staff. The glowing pink tip, barbed with electrical spikes, faded as the metal rod shrunk down, and she reattached it to the magnetic clip at the small of her back. In the background, Keith pulled his bayard out of the gladiator's chest and watched it dissipate into nothingness. "We would never let you fall behind, either. Your bout of space-flu and your injured ankles are factors you, I, nor anyone else can control. Why would we put you at fault for them?"

Lance shrugged the shoulder Shiro's hand wasn't holding, lips pressed into a thin, insecure line. "No reason," he mumbled, eyes flickering up to where Keith was standing, tugging his t-shirt up to wipe at his sweaty forehead. Gulping, Lance cast his gaze back down at his lap when the red paladin recalled his bayard and turned to walk over, probably to see what the hubbub was about. "Fine, you convinced me!" he suddenly announced, raising his voice and looking up at Shiro. "I'll sit the rest of this sesh out. But if it doesn't get better by tonight, I'm sleeping in a cryopod."

Shiro smiled. "Yes, sir." He wound his arm underneath Lance's armpit and helped him to his feet. "Can you walk?"

Lance nodded, gritting his teeth as Shiro carefully released him. "Yes, sir!" he parroted, throwing the team leader a playful salute. If it were Iverson, he would've been smacked in the mouth already. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." He shot dual finger-guns at Hunk. "I'll probably see _you_ later, big guy. With a new icepack and popcorn, maybe?" He winked, and winked again with conviction when Hunk's face remained deadpan. "Eh? Ehhh?"

Hunk sighed, playfully exasperated. "I'll bring popcorn if you get the movie," he said with an eyeroll, his brain wavelengths already attuned to Lance's after years of friendship.

"Great! It's a date!" Lance turned, missing the way Keith's frown dipped deeper, and waved over his shoulder as he limped over to the doors. " _Hasta luego_ , everybody! Later, Rambo II!"

Keith scowled at the jab directed at him, and subconsciously swept a hand over his sweaty bangs, oblivious to the way the damp hair stuck up in clumpy spikes. "Have fun," he muttered as Lance disappeared into the hallway, turning back to the training deck.

 

* * *

 

 

No matter how many times he woke up in the middle of the night, practically dying of thirst, Keith never remembered to bring a glass of water to bed with him.

Keith turned the corner and padded into the dining hall, scratching his stomach beneath his shirt. Muffling a yawn in the crook of his elbow, he paused in the doorway, squinting around the room. Nothing unusual; not even Lance seated in the middle seats, mulishly poking at something gelatinous. Trudging past, lamps dimly lighting up as he walked, Keith yawned again and muttered, "Hey Lance."

Lance turned his head, watching Keith pass by. "'Sup, Keith."

Something about Lance's voice -- scratchy from sleep, tired and low-pitched, _attractive_ \-- finally got the gears in Keith's drowsy brain spinning. The red paladin froze in the entrance to the kitchen, foot still raised to take a step. "Wait a second. Lance??"

Lance quirked his eyebrows. "That's the name," he replied. "Don't wear it out."

"What are you _doing_ in here?" Keith asked.

Lance glanced down at the bowl he was idly stabbing at. Whatever was inside jiggled at the poke of his spoon, and he frowned. "I was having a dream about food goo," he confessed grimly. "Like, this dream was fucking _awesome_. I was _digging_ the idea of food goo, for some reason. I even got up at three in the morning and got some." He sighed and pushed away the bowl. "But as soon as I took a bite, I just... stopped digging it."

"Oh." Keith frowned. "That's.. a little weird, but not unusual."

"Yeah." Lance morosely pushed the bowl around. "But now? I'm craving my grandma's garlic knots. And that's even worse than food goo."

Keith hugged his arms, rubbing his hands over his cold biceps. "I've.. never had your grandma's garlic knots, but... I bet they're delicious."

"Everything my _mima_ makes it delicious, but her garlic knots are my favorite." Lance's achingly sad smile twisted, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. Keith pretended not to hear the sniffle, muffled by the palm of his hand, or to see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "Man, I've been having the craziest midnight cravings. One second I want one thing, the next, I want something else. You know what I want now? It's real specific, and bear with me here, 'cause it's more than just 'a little weird'."

"Hit me." Keith waved his hand expectedly, like Lance would drop the answer into his palm.

Lance sucked in a long, deep breath. "I want mango slices covered in hot sauce." He released the inhale slowly. "I have for, like, weeks. I'm fucking obsessed with the idea. It keeps me up at night and I think about it every single time I take a step toward the kitchen."

Keith blinked. "....okay," he said.

"'Okay'? You're.. not gonna make fun of me or anything?"

"Why are you so convinced that I'm gonna make fun of you all the time?" Keith snapped, throwing his arms into the air. "I'm not gonna do that, Lance, unless we're doing the back and forth thing."

"The back and forth thing..?"

"Yes! That's our whole thing, that we do! Where we--" Keith let his arms drop and heaved out a breath, letting it come slowly and evenly. "Look, I'm gonna level with you, Lance. That's not the weirdest food craving I've ever heard of." He opened his eyes, and allowed a tiny smirk. "You ever try Hot Cheetos and strawberry yogurt?"

Lance chuckled, smiling a slow, genuine grin. "No... but now I think I want to."

Keith outstretched his hand, palm turned upward, fingers splayed. "Come, young padawan," he joked. His eyes were practically twinkling. "I have much to show you in the ways of weird food cravings."

Lance's eyes, wide and deep blue even in the dim light, flickered down to the offered palm. Uncertain as to whether or not it was a joke or not, he stood from his chair and left it hanging, crossing his arms. "Freak my mind, Criss Angel."

"How do you even know so many people who have mullets?"

"Criss Angel doesn't even have a-- look, we were bonding, okay? Let's go back to that."

 

* * *

 

 

" _Yatah_!" Lance kicked Keith over his head, sending him flying backwards. "Yeah, how do you like that!" he yelled, rolling onto his stomach and scrambling to his feet. "Still wanna fight?!"

Keith twisted in midair, landing on his feet with the nimbleness of a feline. "Why would I quit when I'm winning?" he shouted back. In the back of his head, Lance thought his teeth looked particularly sharp in that moment, but when Keith bunched his muscles and leaped into the air, summoning his bayard with a flash of light and swinging it down for Lance's head, all thoughts except _survive_ left his head.

Metal clashed together, and orange sparks flew between them as Lance threw his rifle up, the length of the barrel blocking the deadly edge of Keith's katar. His arms shook as he determinedly held up his bayard, and Keith smirked, eyes glinting, and before Lance could correct his weakest point, Keith darted back. Lance stumbled backwards as Keith's weight suddenly disappeared, and with a swipe of his foot, the red paladin had him on his back. Lance's vision went blurry, dazed as his head hit the hard mat below, but a hard blink restored clarity just in time to see Keith jumping toward him, blade raised to slash down.

With a yelp, he flung his bayard up once again, blocking Keith's blow. The blade dug into the metal of the stock, dangerously close to Lance's fingers.

"Just give up, Lance!" Keith grinned wildly. "I promise not to hold it over your head for too long! Maybe a week or two, tops!"

Lance grit his teeth. "Never!"

That menacing grin -- a week or two tops, yeah fucking _right_ \-- grew wider. "You sure about that?" he asked huskily, leaning his weight down onto the length of his blade. The wicked edge inched closer to Lance.

Keith's renewed vigor into pushing down onto him forced a grunt from him, and Lance sucked in a breath as he pushed up against the struggle. He brought his leg up between their bodies and planted his foot in the middle of Keith's chestplate, the back of his thighs burning as he shoved. "Never!" he repeated, his shriek of protest swept away by the undercurrent of laughter.

Their eyes met, ocean blue meeting deep indigo, and Lance's limbs stopped trembling as Keith stopped trying to get the edge on him, shifting to support his own body with one foot. Lance's leg muscles burned as his knee bent back, brushing his chestplate as his focus was lost to the twinkle in Keith's eye.

"Just give up already," Keith murmured, eyelids drooping. The corner of his lips quirked into a soft smile, and without his helmet, frizzy black curls hung down around his neck, framing the sharp angles of his face. Lance smiled back up at him, fingers twitching around the barrel of his rifle, itching to reach up and--

**_WOOOOP! WOOOOP! WOOOOOP!_ **

The emergency alarm blared, shocking both of them out of the moment and shattering the still atmosphere between them. Keith yelped as Lance's legs collapsed, giving way to surprise. The wind was knocked from him as their bodies collided. Keith rolled off of Lance with a groan, clutching his forehead where they'd smacked together. " _Lance_!" he hissed, glaring over at him. "Why'd you do that?!"

"S'not like I _wanted_ to, Keith!" Lance fired back, still breathless from the heights of their scrapping. He rolled over onto his stomach and tried to catch his breath, tried to ignore the burning of his leg from being bent back too far, the sting of a shallow cut on his cheek where Keith had gotten a bit too close earlier. Second to Shiro, Keith was the best hand-to-hand combat fighter on the team, and Lance was proud to say that he'd given the guy a run for his money; was proud to say he'd made Keith just as breathless, just as sweaty and _sore_ \--

Lance _slammed_ his fist down on the training deck, smashing those particular thoughts like glass, and hauled his aching body off of the ground.

" _Paladins, Princess_!" Coran's voice suddenly blared over the intercom, loud and urgent. " _Intruder alert! The cargo bay has been breached and entered by an unknown vessel! I've managed to seal off the airlock. Please assemble there immediately!_ "

"How did someone break in to the castle?!" Keith flung a towel at him, unbothered to stop and snicker at the way it smacked Lance in the face, and turned to run from the training deck.

Lance pulled the rag off of his face and wrapped it around his damp neck, scooping up his helmet on the sidelines and sprinting after Keith. "Beats me!"

 

* * *

 

 

The cargo bay doors slid open as they approached, and Keith slowed to a jog as they crossed the hangar. He summoned his bayard, raising it at the foreign ship as they neared. The other paladins were circled around the vessel, their own weapons drawn; Shiro twisted to shoot them a glance as they positioned themselves at the rear. "Where were you two?" he asked quietly. He lowered his voice even more, aiming the next question at Keith. "And why are you both so... sweaty?"

Keith, horrendously enough, blushed. "We were _sparring_ ," he snapped, volume no louder than a whisper. "Quit being nasty. Now tell me, who's in there and how did they break into the castle?"

Shiro's smirk faded. "That's what we're about to find out," he replied. A loud hiss made him tense up, and he spun around the fully face the strange ship. 

The ship's door dropped open, solid steel hitting the ground with a heavy _thunk_. A cloaked silhouette appeared on the top step, a dramatic breeze rustling the folds of fabric draped around their shoulders. "I hope that the human called Lance decided to come with you all," they declared. "Or else this is going to be very awkward."

Keith stepped forward, expression drawn into the scowl Lance knew and loved. "Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded, fingers twitching toward the bayard on his hip.

"Relax, mullet-man, I come in peace." Feet clonking noisily down the steps, the hooded figure stopped a wary distance away from Shiro and Allura, who headed the group. "And there next to you, is that the guest of honor?" they asked sarcastically. "I can't see much out of this mysterious hood, and my Sense is all messed up."

Lance stiffened as the figure pulled their dark hood back, revealing a weary-faced alien woman with remarkably humanoid features: lips pulled into a deep frown, downturned ears that were too pointed to be earthling but not pointed enough to be Altean; sloped nose and sharp chin. Half of her head was shaved, clean lines cut into the soft fuzz; long waves of seafoam-green hair on the other side were pulled into many braids, all cinched in place with metal bands. White markings lined her forehead and cheeks, dots joining them between her brows and on her cheekbones. Two scars crisscrossed on her right cheek.

Her eyes, deep gold, pupiless, and underscored with purplish half-moon bags of exhaustion, scanned over the paladins assembled around her ship. Her gaze landed on Lance on the fringes of the circle, and her eyes brightened with recognition. Her lips twisted into a bitter grin, revealing a flash of menacing white fangs. " _You_ ," she hissed, breaking past Shiro and storming toward him. "I finally found you again, you absolute--"

Lance backpedalled as she stalked over to him, arms raised like he was begging for mercy. "You!" he parroted, voice pitched high with nervousness, face breaking into a sheepish grin. Keith knew it well, but this one held an anxious edge that he didn't quite recognize. "Wh-what's up?"

"I've come to break _this_ \--" She gestured between herself and Lance; specifically their heads, curiously enough. "--off! Between your thoughts and that _thing's_ ceaseless wailing, I was _ticks_ away from firing myself out of the cockpit and into the endless void of space!" She furiously pointed back to her ship, eyes ablaze as she advanced on the retreating Lance.

Keith, snapping out of his shock, leaped in front of Lance. "Stay where you are!" he barked, leveling the sharpened point of his blade at her. "Don't come any closer or else!"

She stared at the katar aimed for her neck, watching the razor-sharp edge glint menacingly, an echo of the dangerous light in the red paladin's eyes. "So, it's really you, huh?" she asked flatly, glancing at Lance over Keith's shoulder. "Charming. Good choice, Lance. I'm Delani, by the way."

Lance squirmed behind Keith's back, ears going pink. "Lance," the swordsman said, voice pitched low with warning. He tilted his head to the side, glancing back from the corner of his eye. "You know her, I guess. What's she talking about, 'charming'?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all!" Lance grabbed the back of Keith's chestplate and pulled him back. "I-it's nice to see you again and all, babe, but uhh." He gestured to Delani with an open palm, lips thinned into a line. "What the hell are you doing here?" Keith reluctantly lowered his bayard, sensing Lance's trust in her, but didn't summon it away completely.

"Excellent question, Lance." Allura stepped from her place between Hunk and Shiro, arms folded. "Delani, was it? My name is Princess Allura, and this is my castle you've broken into."

Delani turned to face Allura, frizzy strands of green hair brushing her cheeks. " _Salutana_ , Princess," she greeted, bowing her head and pressing her palm against her chest. It looked reminiscent of the Galran salute, but Allura remained stone-faced. "I sincerely apologize for breaking into your castle. I wish we could've met under better circumstances, I've heard a lot about you through your blue paladin."

"I'll accept your apology and return your sentiments when you answer the question," Allura coldly replied, raising her chin. "What the.. hell.. are you doing here?" She hesitated on the strange Earth word, but carried on like a champ, narrowing her eyes at the alien woman.

Delani's eyes flickered down to Allura's hand, where the princess' fingers curled, close to the collapsable staff attached to her hip. "I needed to talk to Lance. Desperately," she emphasized, eyes darting over to her ship. "I've been searching for him for _months_ now. When I just so happened to fly into your quadrant, I had to take the opportunity. But your helmsman didn't answer my hails, so I took matters into my own hands."

"How did you break in, though?" Pidge's eyes were practically twinkling. "We didn't even know about it until your ship was already in our cargo bay!"

"Trade secret."

Lance piped up. "She's a super hot space pirate. _That's_ how!" He grunted when Delani smacked his chest, but otherwise ignored it, smirking at her like he'd snitched on her to the authorities. Which, technically, considering who they all were, he sort of did.

Hunk groaned. "Lance, what did Shiro tell you about trying to hook up with space pirates?"

"Woah, who said anything about 'trying'?" A triumphant grin crawled onto Lance's features. "I tried and succeeded, my man!"

Shiro pinched the scarred bridge of his nose. "Lance," he said simply. "Don't brag, please."

Delani turned to face him fully, face an odd mixture of embarrassed and furious. "So Lance," she said, voice trembling with barely-contained rage. Her clenched fists shook at her sides. "Then you _do_ have some idea as to why I've broken into your ship and yelled at you? Right?"

Lance stared down at her shaking form, brows sloped with uncertainty. "You're not here for a booty call, are you? 'Cause you know I would, baby, if my heart already didn't belong to someone else." He knocked on the middle of his chestplate, where his heart was secretly pounding. As an afterthought, he shrugged. "Or are you here to just smash a few drinks together? 'Cause you know how that second Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster always goes..."

Delani shook her head. "Lance," she said, and the calm veneer of her voice made his eyebrows shoot up. "Think back, over the course of the past _katra_. Decaphoeb, year, whatever you'd like to call it. Has anything unusual occurred since our night together?"

"Well, I was really sick with the space-flu for about two weeks." Lance glanced over at Hunk. "It was two weeks, right? It was all one big blur of throwing up and sleeping, to me."

"It was almost three," Hunk corrected dutifully. "You were okay for a couple of days at a time, then just went right back to being sick again."

"Right, right." Lance hummed as he thought. "I think I managed to sprain both of my ankles one time, 'cause my feet were swollen for a long time. Whenever it got really bad, I just spent the night in a healing pod, and they were good as new the next day! That guy in Pokemon was right: the power of science _is_ amazing!"

"Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night, craving certain foods?" Delani asked.

"Yeah, and my chest always felt totally sore, too! Plus I had to pee, like, twenty times a day." Lance shook his head. "Who would'a thought adjusting to outer space would take eight and a half months? God, it was the worst. Do you even know how awful it was?"

"Oh, I think I _might_ have an idea." Delani exhaled shakily. "Lance, I have a present for you. For helping me through my _fonparr_. Wait here." She delicately touched his chestplate, pressing her palm against the blue v-shaped symbol on his chest, and turned to stride back toward her ship.

Keith stared at Lance. "What's a _fonparr_?" he asked cautiously once she clambered onto the ship.

Lance blushed. "Um. It's--"

" _Oh_!" Allura's cut-off cry and the other paladins' gasps of alarm jerked Lance and Keith around, where Delani was disembarking her ship once again. Lance's eyes widened at a bundle of fabric clutched in her arms, heart jumping into his throat as the familiar sound of an underdeveloped wail reached his ears. A tiny brown hand waved up at Delani from the swaddle, fingers curled, and Lance felt his heart skip a beat, two, then stop completely.

"Here's your present!" Delani said with a disgusting amount of fake cheer. She stomped over to him and dumped the swaddled wrap of blankets into his arms, numb with shock, barely caring if he caught it or not. "And here's a follow-up gift, for all those drinks!"

There was something familiar about the way she grabbed his face, fingers bracketing his round, shell-shocked eyes, thumb pressed against the corners of his mouth. Delani pressed their foreheads together and closed her eyes. Lance's body went rigid and his eyes glazed over, spine straight as a rod as his mind blacked out.

Keith regained his senses first and summoned his katar with a swing of his bayard. "I _knew_ she wasn't trustworthy!" he yelled, snapping the other paladins out of their own dazes. He crouched, ready to spring, but Allura's strong hand on his shoulder stopped him dead.

"You can't!" she gasped, her hand keeping him firmly rooted in place. "If you interrupt a mind-meld, it could be catastrophic for everyone involved, including Lance and the infant!"

"A mind- _what_?" Keith echoed incredulously.

Delani jerked her hands away from his face like she'd touched something nasty, and whirled around. "That's for projecting your inane thoughts and human pregnancy symptoms onto me for nine months!" she snarled, pulling herself up into the cockpit of her ship by the handle. "And for God's sake, do _something_ about your lovesick pining before you drive every telepathic being in the universe _crazy_ with your unresolved sexual tension!"

Lance gasped as her ship powered on and lifted off of the ground, breath ragged like he'd been held underwater until the brink of drowning. He stumbled backwards, dazed by whatever she'd done to him. The bundle in his arms wailed again and the sound snapped him out of his stupor just as his legs gave out. He twisted at the last second to protect the bundle in his arms, landing hard on his back.

" _Lance_!" Everyone but one rushed over to him, crowding around him to help him if needed. Only Keith remained apart, glaring up at the underbelly of the ship as it flew out of the cargo bay airlock and into space, a pinprick of dark green against the void as it zoomed away.

Hunk gently pushed Lance upright, an arm supporting his shoulders. "Dude, are you okay?" he asked, hushed with concern. The more worried he was, the quieter Hunk tended to speak.

Lance leaned back into Hunk's chest, blinking dazedly. "Yeah, I think so," he answered slowly. He looked down at the bundle in his arms, protectively held against his chest, and gulped audibly when big blue eyes blinked back. "Actually, maybe not."

Pidge squawked when he handed the bundle of blankets over to her. The baby instantly started to wail. "Hold this, please," he requested sweetly, raising his voice over the squalling.

Then, with little fanfare, Lance fainted, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

 


	2. Lance Wakes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gang Has A Serious Discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- ok. here's a disclaimer. abt the convo at the start of the chapter: i'm drawing from my own experiences, not forcing an underage character into sexual/mature situations just for the hoo-ha's. just so u know. ok let's continue

* * *

 

"...nk, wake him up! Somehow, anyhow! I can't get it to stop crying!"

"Lance! Wake up, man, your baby is super upset and Pidge is getting _real_ antsy about it!"

"Hunk, you silly-billy man," Lance slurred, groaning against the way the hands on his shoulders shook him. "I don't have a baby."

"Yes, you do!"

"Nah, man, I'm only 18. I don't have a baby. I've never even thought about a sex before." Lance smiled dopily, eyes still closed. "My ma would be so proud, especially if she's seen Alejandra Cortez from sophomore year."

"Okay, it's not cool to lie to your best bro, man." Hunk dropped Lance back down onto the bed and held up a finger. "I know it's a fact that you're done a sex before. At the beginning of the year, you brought Jenny Marino from second year physics back to our dorm while you thought I was asleep, and--"

" _Lance_!" Pidge cut him off, voice raised to be heard over the crying. "Wake up, you fucking moron! Your baby hasn't stopped screaming since you passed out, and I've _had_ it!"

Hunk nervously backed away as she stomped over to Lance's bedside and shoved the bundle of blankets into his limp arms, yanking them into position around the soft pink material. The wailing instantly stopped, and Lance's mind was filled with the warm sensation of being held by his father's strong arms. He hummed contently, turning his head to the side and rubbing his face into the pillow below, memories of faint cigar smoke and shaving gel filling his nose.

Soon, the familiar scents were lost to a zephyr of warmth, replaced with the subtle smell of Lance's own _Spicebomb_ aftershave and dried salt from mother's hair and--

Lance's eyes shot open, the blood in his veins turned to ice water.

" _Holy shit_."

He struggled upright, arms wrapped securely around the blankets. Hunk, seated next to him on the bed, scooted down to give him space; Pidge near his feet merely turned, leaning back against the railing of the bedpost. "Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend," Hunk said, patting his shoulder.

"At last," Pidge grumbled, crossing her arms. "Do you know how long I held that crying baby for? Ten minutes, while Hunk and Keith carried you here. _Ten minutes_ , Lance!"

Normally, Lance would be stumbling over the fact that Keith had helped carry him ("I only carried the legs," Hunk would've said, lest he asked. "Keith carried the rest of you, man."), but Lance's eyes remained downcast, focused on the tiny bundle in his arms. "Holy shit.." he whispered again, absentmindedly raising his hand and delicately brushing his finger down the side of the baby's face. "This baby... is really mine, huh?"

Hunk leaned over his shoulder. "Looks just like you, man," he confirmed. "Same skin tone, same hair color, same eyes..." He chuckled and reached around Lance's arm, gently pulling the blanket aside and tugging on the baby's pointed ear with the utmost care. "Same ears, too! Look at how they stick out!"

Lance scowled at him, reaching up to cover his left ear with his free hand. "Shut up, man. This baby isn't a free pass to roast me."

"Lance, we don't _need_ a free pass to roast you," Pidge corrected.

A deep, resound knocking interrupted Lance's wittiest comeback yet. The doors slid apart, revealing Shiro's broad frame. "Can we come in?" he asked, leaning into the room. Allura peered over his shoulder, wavering on her tiptoes from in the hallway.

Lance waved them in. "Just get Kaltenecker, the mice, and Keith, and we'll have a real party in here."

Shiro chuckled. "Actually," he said, mirth fading fast. "Allura and I wanted to discuss something with you privately. Hunk, Pidge, can you guys come back in a little while?"

"Sure thing, Shiro." Pidge clapped Lance on the knee and jumped up from the bed. "Come on, Hunk."

"Just a second, Pidge." Hunk leaned over Lance's shoulder one last time, reaching down to poke the baby on the nose. "See you later, little baby Lancey. Don't miss your Uncle Hunk and Aunt Pidge too much!"

"Newborn babies don't have the mental capabilities to actually 'miss' people, Hunk," Pidge deadpanned. "They can barely lift their heads or talk, much less mentally process the sentimentality and other emotions attached to 'missing' someone."

"Babies can totally miss people!" Hunk replied. "They have biological instincts!"

"Yeah, in the sense that, 'oh shit, my guardian isn't around to clean up my shit and give me food, time to cry my undeveloped lungs out'."

Their argument echoed down the hallway as they walked, Shiro shaking his head as they fired back at each other. He crossed the room over to Lance and bent down a little next to his shoulder. "Woah, Lance, is that you?" he asked, gently sitting on the edge of the bed. "Those are your eyes, just in his head."

Lance nodded, chin lifted with pride. "Did a pretty good job, didn't I?" he boasted.

"Sure did, pal. He's just like you, but beautiful." Shiro smiled softly at Lance's mock scoff. "Do you think I could hold him?" he asked quietly.

With a nod, Lance transferred the baby into Shiro's arms with the smooth ease of someone who's practiced the motions countless times, and fell back onto the bed. Shiro cradled the bundle of blankets with his Galra arm, using his human hand to caress the soft curve of the baby's round cheeks. "Hey there, baby," he _cooed_ , tapping the point of the ski-jump nose. Like he'd pressed a button, the baby giggled, tiny brown arms waving in the air. "Allura, you want to come look..?"

"Don't be a stranger." Lance lifted his head up and waggled his eyebrows at her. "You’re one of his aunts now, can't afford to keep your distance." He let his head fall back down, and lifted his arms, falling into an exaggeration of an accent Allura, an Altean, had never heard before. " _Mi familia es su familia_. It's the McClain way." His arm dropped heavily across the blankets.

Allura hesitated, before moving across the room from where she was dutifully standing near the door. She leaned down and peered into the blanket bundle. "It's.. it _is_ a tiny you, Lance!"

"So I've been told."

"Does he have a name?" Shiro asked, looking back at Lance.

Lance sighed, fond face fading into something more bitter. "Paz," he answered, and sat up. "That was her name for him."

"That's a lovely name," Allura remarked.

"I think it's the literal word for 'stupid' in her language." Lance frowned, the downward curve of his mouth casting a shadow across his entire face. Promptly, the baby squirmed in Shiro's grasp and squalled, waving his arms for the comforting presence of his father. Lance held his arms out almost absentmindedly.

Allura's polite smile faded. "Oh."

Shiro hurried over to deposit the baby back in Lance's hold. When Lance's arms wrapped around him, the crying stopped almost immediately. "I'm not going to call my baby 'stupid' everytime I talk about him," he said with an air of finality. "Maybe if he doesn't do his chores or if he does something utterly, truly moronic like--" He paused to swallow thickly. "--knock a girl up at 18 years old. But not every single time."

"What are you gonna call him, then?" Shiro asked. He hesitantly crouched down to sit, pausing to quietly ask for permission; he had to duck his head in order to fit under the bunk.

"Definitely something human. He's more me than he is her, anyway." The corner of his smile quirked up. "I was thinking Gabriel. _Riel_ , after my abuelito."

"Anything is better than calling him 'the baby' in my head," Shiro teased, leaning back. His head bumped one of the ruts on the upper bed, and he paused to scowl up at it. "I haven't been in a bunk bed since I was a kid. Now I remember why; I was 6' by fourteen."

"I'm 5'10", and I've been this height since I was thirteen," Lance chimed in. "My family even called me ' _gusanito_ ', so I know how you feel."

"'Little worm'?" Shiro chuckled. "Because you were long and skinny? Poor kid."

"Finally, some sympathy!" Lance reached over and slapped Shiro on the shoulder. "Didn't know you understood Spanish, either. Those looks you've given me make a lot of sense now. Yep, that's... embarrassing." 

Shiro shot him a sidelong smirk, but glanced back up as Allura stepped forward, hands folded diplomatically. "I like the name you've given him," she remarked. "But we need to discuss it."

Lance's eyebrows furrowed. "What is there to discuss? I named him after my grandfather, nothing else really to discuss."

Allura exchanged a look with Shiro. "That's... we came to talk to you about the baby, not his name," Allura began. Lance stiffened at her formal tone, often used before she began a lecture on why teamwork makes the dream work, or how he needs to stop sleeping naked so she won't see _all that_ when she comes to talk to him. Getting right to the heart of the matter, she continued, "Lance, what are you going to do? You're already getting attached, and that's going to make it so much harder in the end..."

"Allura, what are you talking about?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Shiro sighed, a weary sound, and stood from the bed. Any playfulness or relatability faded away, and Lance watched him return to the authoritative stance he stood in when they were debriefing a mission. His arms unknowingly tightened around Riel, and the baby gave a babble of distress at the fingers curled in a loose fold of fabric.

"What are you going to do about the baby?" Shiro clarified.

"Why are you even asking me that?" Lance's face grew stormy. "I'm keeping him, obviously."

"Why?" Allura questioned. "You aren't prepared in any way to raise a baby. You're little more than a child yourself, in the grand scheme of things."

"So that's it then? You think I'm some dumb little kid who doesn't know anything?" Lance's voice had a hysterical note to it, anger flowing off of him in angry tidal waves. Riel wailed, squirming and trying to bury his face in Lance's chest to escape the anger, but only burrowed closer to the source of it. He cried harder. "That's why none of you take me seriously, huh?"

Shiro stepped foward, hands raised to smooth ruffled feathers. "Lance, she didn't mean--"

Allura cut him off. "How can you adequately nurture an infant child when you're participating in an intergalactic war against an empire who's wiped out millions of babies just like him?"

"Do you think he'd be safer out there, where the Galra can slaughter him along with the millions of other babies they've probably killed?" Lance fired back. He stood from the bed, Riel still held close against his chest. "Allura, this is my baby. I _made_ this. Do you think I could live with myself if I willingly gave up my single greatest achievement, and let him grow up thinking neither of his parents wanted him?!"

"Allura, Lance, calm down--"

"What if the Galra get to him, Lance?" she snapped. "What if they get their hands on him somehow? They'd have one hell of a bargaining chip against us, wouldn't they?! They could render you _completely useless_ when they have your child in their hands, and then where would that leave Voltron, the only thing in the universe that's stopping them? It would be missing one of its most integral paladins!"

"They will _never_ get him!" Lance snarled, teeth bared viciously. His seething anger threw Allura off-guard, and as he took a step forward, she moved back, tensed at the rigid lines of his shoulders. "Over my fucking cold, dead _body_ is the day they use my Riel as a _bargaining chip_ , against Voltron or otherwise!"

He shouldered past her, refusing to apologize when he roughly bumped her back another step, and stalked through the doors to his room, the baby's wailing growing faint as he marched away. Shiro turned and called out to him, "Lance, wait!", but he pretended not to hear.

Shiro sighed, running a hand over his hair. He glanced over at Allura, who wrapped her arms around herself and stared at Lance's previous spot on the bed, head turned just so, to avoid his disapproving eye.

"That," he said wearily, "could've gone better."

 

* * *

 

 

The soft blue light of the observation deck reminded him of the skies of Playa Varadero.

Months ago, in the throes of the homesickness and the growing pains of his role as a Paladin, Lance turned to the star-map for solace. The Milky Way was painfully far away from their current quadrant, on the completely opposite side of the universe, and there was nothing Lance missed more than the soft salt breeze, the crunch of sand beneath his feet, the water's warm arms wrapped around him like a mother's embrace... even the stringy seaweed that came with the tide was something Lance's heart ached for.

Lance sat at the bottom of the star-studded ocean, watching the galaxies spin past. "I'm sorry for losing it back there, pal," he murmured in Spanish, head tilted up to watch a trio of binary stars slowly pass. He laughed mirthlessly, and looked down in his lap. "Can you forgive me?"

Riel stared back with an oblivious smile, starlight twinkling in his eyes. ( _No pupils_ , Lance realized very belatedly.) Warmth flowed through him, and Lance returned the baby's smile, leaning back against the wall behind him. "Thank you," he said. He chuckled when Riel reached up with a chubby hand and grabbed his fingers, wincing a little when his joints popped at the hard squeeze.

His thumb absently brushed the spot behind Riel's ear, and he huffed a little. "They do _not_ stick out," he grumbled. "Don't listen to your Uncle Hunk, he's crazy."

"His feelings are going to be so hurt when he hears you say that." A familiarly gruff voice piped up from the shadows on the other side of the room, near the entrance, and Lance _screamed_. Keith stepped out of the shadows, revealing the wide smirk on his face, but when Riel let out a wailing cry at Lance's signature high-pitched shriek, his smug face faded. "Uh, sorry," he said, raising his voice over the crying. "I-I didn't mean..."

"Shh, shh," Lance soothed, adjusting Riel in his arms and bouncing him lightly. "It's okay, _bambino_. Daddy was just surprised." He smiled, smoothing his hand over Riel's head, brushing wispy brown curls off of his forehead.

Keith hesitantly crossed the room, purposefully making his silent footsteps heavier. "'Daddy', huh?" he asked quietly, quirking an eyebrow. Lance glanced at him from under his eyelashes, hoping the blue wash of the observation deck hid the way his cheeks turned warm. "You're really taking this baby thing in stride."

"Of course I am." Little more than that as an answer, Lance tilted his head up at Keith. "You wanna stop lingering awkwardly and come sit down? I think you're the only one he hasn't seen yet."

Keith rubbed his arm. "You want me to..?" he asked. "I know I'm intruding on your alone time by being in here, but Shiro said your talk with Allura pissed you off pretty badly, so I came to check up on you."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Drew the short straw again?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Keith furrowed his eyebrows. "Nobody _made_ me come here, I did it because I _wanted_ to." He walked the final few steps and leaned against the wall, sliding down it to sit next to Lance, who was still trying to process the possible implications of _that_. Riel, sensing another person present, made a curious sound and tried to look around.

Lance made the decision to box those implications away for unpackaging later, and shifted Riel in his arms. Keith waved when Riel's eyes landed on him. "Riel, look!" Lance crooned, throwing a smile Keith's way. "It's Uncle Keith!"

"Just Keith is fine," Keith corrected immediately. He tilted his head, taking in the lovely blue shade of the eyes, the arch of the eyebrows, the sharp nose. "He looks _exactly_ like you." He reached out absentmindedly, fingers freezing halfway to Riel's face. With a glance at Lance's reassuring smile, he continued, rubbing his thumb behind Riel's ear with a smirk. "Same ears and everything."

"They do _not_ stick out!" Lance protested, already sensing the oncoming remark. "Stop talking to Hunk!"

"You're deluding yourself, but sure thing, pal." Keith withdrew his hand with a snicker. His arm jolted to a stop when a tiny hand wrapped out his fingers, and his eyes met Riel's. The baby smiled, and Keith's mind was filled with the distinct sense of sitting in a patch of sunlight. He frowned, wondering why he got that impression, and tried to gently tug his fingers away. "Uh. Riel, was it? Can I have my hand back..?"

"No," Lance answered mischieviously. "He wants you to hold him."

Keith's eyes widened. "I can't," he said quickly. "I've never..." His gaze slid away from Lance's, brows drawn. "I've never even been around a baby before, much less _held_ one. I'd mess it up. I don't know how you mess up holding a baby, but I know I'd do it somehow."

"As long as you're not Pidge, he won't care." Lance leaned over, giving Riel a bounce. "Come on, Uncle Keith, hold him."

"Just Keith," the red paladin insisted, absentmindedly holding his arms out at Lance's command. When the warm weight of a baby was dumped into his embrace, he scrambled. "Lance, wait! Don't just _throw_ your baby at me when I'm not prepared!"

"You were plenty prepared, Keith," Lance replied dryly, leaning back and laying down across the floor, parallel to the wall. "You held your arms out and everything." He sighed and closed his eyes, crossing his arms behind his head and bending his leg over his knee. "Just keep his head supported and don't do your scowling thing at him, and he'll be fine."

" _What_ scowling thing?" Keith snapped. "You mean my regular face?"

"Exactly!" Lance cackled.

Keith opened his mouth to fire back a reply, but a curious babble silenced him. He glanced back down at the baby in his arms, and gulped when Riel flung his arms up, catching him in the jaw with a small baby fist. "Hey! Don't hit me." He caught the next blow with his own hand, but paused when Riel merely splayed his curled fingers against Keith's palm. His heart softened, melting and spreading like molten magma through his chest cavity. "How the fuck is he so tiny..?" Keith whispered, gently wrapping his own fingers over Riel's fist. "How are babies even _possible_?"

Lance sat up and scooted closer, pressing himself against Keith's side and peering over at Riel. "Well, when a mommy and a daddy have one too many drinks..." he began, snickering when Keith gasped and bumped their shoulders together to get him to stop.

"Shut _up_ , Lance, I don't _actually_ want to hear it," Keith groaned.

"Hey, you asked!"

"It was rhetorical."

Lance grinned down at Riel, rolling his eyes like the baby would understand. Riel giggled, waving his arms at Lance and cooing. Lance wiggled his fingers in Riel's face, tickling the side of his face, and Keith smiled when Riel threw his head back with a cackle that sounded so much like Lance's but more pitched. _Deja vu_ washed over Keith.

"You're pretty good at this..." Keith paused, searching for the proper words. "...parent thing."

"Hm?" Lance glanced up from where Riel was trying to suck on his knuckles. "Yeah, I guess so. When my brother's kids were born, I used to spend all of my time with them. They'd stop crying when I held them, they laughed when I played with them, and they cried when I left to go home. Luis was more than happy to let me entertain them while he and his wife got some sleep, or went out for date night." His eyes softened at the memories, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "I wonder how old the kids are now. Nadia was only three when I left... How old is she now? How much time has passed since we've been gone? Does she remember me?" He tilted his head back and looked up at the star-map. "Do any of them remember me....?"

"Lance..." Keith wracked his brain for something to say. "I'm.. sorry."

Lance sighed, a heavy sound that turned his lava-like heart to cold, igneous rock. "No, I'm sorry. Just... being in here makes me kinda maudlin." He looked back down at Riel, forcing a smile when the baby's curious eyes peered back at him. "Want me to take him back now? He's getting kind of sleepy, so he's gonna start fussing in a second."

"How do you know that? Like, is it a parental sense kind of thing?" Keith let Lance extract the baby from his arms and cradle him against his shoulder, bending away to avoid unnecessary touching. It wouldn't be good for his heart; not after the vulnerable display.

Lance looked up at the ceiling, trying to properly phrase the answer. "You remember that weird thing that Delani did to me earlier?" he began, closing his eyes at the memory of it. "She was breaking our bond. The telepathic one, I mean."

Keith tilted his head. "Is that why she said that weird, cryptic stuff about you... projecting your thoughts onto her?" he questioned.

"Yeah." Lance blushed and looked away, watching the trio of binary stars from earlier circle around once again. "When we... uh... you know... we, er, bonded telepathically to... make it better." He squirmed uncomfortably at having to describe the experience to Keith, of all people. "Since I accidentally got her... you know... the bond was permanent, and it lasted all the way through the pregnancy and even afterward, until she broke it herself in the cargo deck."

"She could read your thoughts and feel your emotions. And you went through the same pregnancy symptoms that she did, all because of the bond." Keith shook his head.

"Yeah. But anyways, because we were bonded, our connection extended to Riel while he was growing inside her." Lance patted Riel's back, and smiled faintly at the sleepy sigh. "When she broke off our bond, she also broke her connection to him. So it's just the two of us, now." Lance gently pressed the side of his head against Riel's, closing his eyes and smiling with an aching sort of sadness.

Keith clenched his jaw, chest tight at Lance's explanation. "It's _not_ just the two of you, Lance," he said firmly. Lance leaned back a little as he tilted forward, trying to get some distance from his urgency. "You have us."

"Maybe we have _you_ , Keith," Lance said. "But not Allura, she thinks it's too risky to keep a baby in this environment. Not Shiro, he agrees with Allura. Not Pidge, she just flat-out hates babies. _Maybe_ Hunk, but I haven't talked to him in a couple of hours. He might want me to give Riel away, too."

"They want you to _what_?" Keith scrambled to his feet. "Is... is that why Shiro said you were so pissed off? They told you to get rid of your baby? God, have they even _met_ you?!"

Lance chuckled humorlessly. "I can't believe you, of all people, are the only one on my side." He grunted and tried to stand, wobbling a little with his arms occupied with holding the baby, who mumbled drowsy baby-talk at the motion. "It would be for the sake of the universe. For Voltron, they said."

Keith groaned, slapping a hand on his forehead. "They are so fucking stupid," he grumbled, letting the hand scrub down the side of his face. "Lance, don't listen to Shiro and Allura, or anyone else who tries to hold 'the universe' or 'Voltron' over your head. They're always thinking about the bigger picture. They always put everyone else above them; everyone else is worth protecting and caring for before themselves. And that's not necessarily a bad thing." He gestured to the baby in Lance's arms. "But they've _never_ held the universe in their arms, like you have. Their opinions don't matter, okay? Yours is the only one that has any actual value behind it."

Lance gawked at Keith; took in the kind curve of his mouth, the stony set of his eyes, the soft violet shade of them. Keith smiled, and his lip wobbled. "Give me a hug, you fucking _idiot_ ," he choked out, reaching out with his free arm. "God, how dare you for making me--" He cut himself off with a sniffle, and buried his face in Keith's shoulder.

Keith leaned into the one-armed embrace, hesitantly winding his own arms beneath Lance's, hands resting on either side of his spine. Riel's warm weight rested between them, and Keith was careful not to press too closely. "I won't tell anyone," he chuckled.

"I need a drink." Lance withdrew from the hug, adjusting Riel in his arms. "Does wanting a stiff one after conquering challenging emotions make me an alcoholic?"

"Maybe, but who cares?" Keith said with a shrug. "Let's go get a drink, man. Shiro takes a shot of Altean firewine before bed every night, and I know where he keeps his stash."

 

* * *

 

 

"They're all in there."

"Yeah, I know. The computer said they were, and surprise surprise, here they are." Keith watched Lance peer around the corner, frowning at the shaky hands clutching the doorframe. The baby in his arms shifted, having been transferred from father to totally-not-an-uncle; back in Shiro's room, Keith let Lance take his shot of Altean firewine, hoping that it would soothe the other boy's frazzled nerves and bolster his confidence, while he distracted Riel with something shiny. It'd done most of the job, but Lance must've just sobered quickly.

"Lance, just go in already," Keith said impatiently. "We don't have all day."

"I know, I know, I just--" Lance cut himself off with a sigh. He tousled his hair in frustration; Keith watched the way it stuck up, and reached up to smooth it back down for him. Lance caught his eyes as Keith fixed it, but quickly glanced away, folding his arms. "I don't know what to say, Keith," he confessed.

"Just tell them what you told me," Keith encouraged. "'Fuck you guys, I'm keeping my baby and there's nothing you can say or do to change my mind.'"

Lance chuckled mirthlessly at the humor. "Language," he warned, falling back into a habit he'd kept up back on Earth. A pang of nostalgia hit him at the thought, and he sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "How should I even begin, though? I don't even have any pyrotechnics rigged to announce my arrival, or anything..."

Keith groaned. "If you're gonna stall all day, I'll open up for you!" he snapped, turning to march into the room.

Lance panicked, and reached out to try and grab Keith's shoulder. "Wait, I'm not ready! _Keith_!"

"Lance has something to say!" Keith announced, marching into the room and seating himself next to Hunk on the end of the couch. He put his feet on the table in the center, refusing to look back at Lance lingering in the doorway, instead focusing on Riel in his arms.

Hunk twisted to look back over the couch. "Hey, Lance." His eyes widened when he noticed Lance hesitating in the doorway. "Hey, man, are you okay..?"

Lance's eyes darted over to Shiro and Allura, who glanced up from their holograms and kept their stony gazes on him. He gulped, willing his shaky legs to walk forward. Riel in Keith's arms whined, loud enough to be heard from across the room, and he sucked in a breath, trying to will himself into a calmer state for Riel's sake. "I'm fine, Hunk," he replied, making his way around the couch.

Pidge never looked up from her laptop. "What did you wanna say, Lance?" she said amidst her speedy typing. "Is it about the little squirt?"

"It is, Pidgeon," Lance answered in a forcibly light tone. He cleared his throat theatrically, earning a quick glimpse of her eyes, and turned to face Shiro and Allura more. "I thought about what you guys said, when you talked to me back there." Shiro's face creased guiltily, but Allura remained neutral. Lance reluctantly continued, "I'm keeping him."

As if expecting some sort of backlash, he waited. His eyes sought out Keith almost naturally, and the red paladin nodded at him, silently reassuring. Lance smiled a little, and looked over at Hunk next. The big boy's bigger brown eyes were round and soft with concern, gently compared to Pidge's sharp gaze, peering up at him over the edge of her computer.

"Lance," Shiro began. Lance flinched, and he cut himself off. "Elaborate," he requested, quieter. Allura never budged, a marble statue of disapproval.

Lance's eyes wandered back over to Keith for comfort, looking down at Riel in the red paladin's arms. The baby's round blue eyes stared back at him, warm affection flowing into his mind, and Lance was hit with the sense that he was staring at himself: tall, strong, full of confidence and conviction. He swallowed at the baby's thoughts of him, and turned back to face the team leaders.

"I'm keeping him." Lance breathed out through his nostrils, releasing a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding onto. "I wouldn't give him away even if I could. I can't give up... probably my greatest achievement in my entire life. He's only a couple months old, but I can already tell, he's meant for greatness in a way that I… wasn't." He looked back at Riel, and his eyes hardened with a decision.

"And," he continued, "I'm sorry if this puts the fate of the universe at risk, or whatever, because he'll interfere with how we form Voltron, or make us vulnerable, but...." Lance's gaze wandered up to Keith's. Half of his mouth quirked into a smile. "...he's _my_ universe, and I can't just give him up." His stormy eyes darted over to Allura, where she sat quietly taking in his words.

"Lance..." Shiro stood, back to the other paladins, and crossed the room. He put his hand on Lance's shoulder. "...if you're willing to step up to the plate and raise this kid all by yourself, then I'll personally guarantee that you won't have to. I'll be with you, through the terrible twos to puberty to beyond." He turned back to the team, palm outstretched toward them. "Come on, guys. It takes a village, doesn't it?"

"To raise an idiot, sure." Pidge stood up from her seat and crossed over to join them. "But Lance is already too far gone, so maybe we can save this baby from a similar fate. With an aunt like me, we can't go wrong in the smart department." She punched Lance's arm and puffed her chest out, pushing her glasses up smugly.

"Somebody's gotta teach this child how to cook." Hunk winked and shot a finger pistol at Lance. "His dad can't make a box of macaroni and cheese without burning something, and neither can the rest of you, so it's definitely gonna have to be me."

"Oh, Lance, can I teach him Altean?" Coran's hand shot up. "He'll have to learn it in order to operate the castleship!"

"Y-yeah, sure you can." Lance sniffled, bringing his arm up to his eyes and rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "He has to learn Spanish and English first, though, so let's take it one at a time, Coran."

"Of course!" Coran's eyes were twinkling. "Do you think he might call me Pop Pop some day?"

"I'll make sure he does." Lance gave a watery laugh and wiped his eyes again. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his bangs up considerably. They spiked upward, revealing a glimpse of a secret widow's peak beneath. He looked tired, but his handsomeness shined through regardless of his tousled hair, bloodshot eyes and strained smile. "What are you gonna teach him, Uncle Keith?"

"I told you, Lance: knives, or something." Keith rolled his eyes. "And just Keith, please, before he actually starts calling me uncle."

"Okay, Just Keith," Lance teased. His eyes slid over to Allura, who was still sitting silently, staring pointedly at her hands folded in her lap. "What about you, Allura?" he asked, voice hushed and resigned. "Please... will you teach my boy something..?"

Keith, sitting closeby, noticed the trembling of her fingers as she tucked hair behind her pointed ear and sucked in a shaky breath. Allura stood and crossed the room, chin raised with regality, and took Lance's hands in hers. "Please," she echoed him, giving him a small smile. "'Aunt Allura' will do quite nicely."

Lance grinned with a wild sort of exhaustion, his laughter tinged with relief. "Thank you, princess," he said, squeezing her fingers. "Allura, I'm... thank you, so much."

Allura squeezed his in return before pulling away. "On our next stop to a coalition planet, we will travel down to the surface and obtain some supplies," she said, the authoritative clarity in her voice returning. "Whatever human infants eat, play with, sleep in... we will retrieve all of that, and more if needed." She looked at Lance with a half-smile. "Whatever the baby... Riel... whatever he needs, we will certainly make sure he gets it. And we will extend the same courtesy to you, Lance."

Lance blinked hard, trying to keep his tears contained. "Thank you."

Hunk stood up, giving Lance a knowing smile. "I think it's time for a group hug," he declared, spreading his arms and enveloping his skinny friend in his embrace, guiding Lance's head onto his shoulder. "Come on, everybody, it's Hug Lance time."

Pidge attached herself to Lance's side, wrapping her arms around his middle. Allura approached from the other side, leaning around Pidge to wind her arm around Lance's shoulder, a mirror of Hunk's position. Shiro put a hand on her shoulder and brought her closer, using his other hand to ruffle Lance's hair fondly.

Lance sniffled from his position in the middle. "Come on, everybody," he repeated wetly, sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at Keith on the couch, bemusedly watching the group hug. "It's Hug Lance time."

"Pass," Keith deadpanned. "My hands are kinda full."

"Then I guess we're gonna have to come over there!" Lance broke out of the group hug and marched over, a smirk growing on his determined face.

Keith shook his head, already protesting at the wicked gleam in his eyes. "No, Lance, don't!" He groaned when Lance flopped down on the couch next to him and flung an arm around his shoulders, drawing him into a close embrace. Keith's temple nudged Lance's jawline, and the whiff of spicy-sweet aftershave that his nose caught from Lance's smooth chin made him flush. Riel in Keith's arms giggled, thankfully distracting him, and Lance pressed his cheek against Keith's, grinning down at the baby.

Hunk's arms snaked around both of their shoulders, from behind the back of the couch. "We're raising a baby together!" he cheered, squishing them together in an echo of when they'd mastered their first team bonding exercise. "To parenthood!"

"To parenthood," Allura agreed, smiling widely.

"To parenthood!" Pidge and Shiro added, the former a bit reluctantly.

"To parenthood!" Lance echoed. He wiggled an arm free of Hunk's grasp and raised an imaginary drink to toast.

Keith glanced down at the little Lance lookalike in his arms, and sighed. "To parenthood."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon time
> 
> \- how the lads shave: shiro is the most virulent, so he shaves once a day. he uses axe dark temptations. hunk and lance shave every other day; hunk uses something fruity, but lance prefers to smell like either spice or pine foresty. keith has the skin of a little baby and doesn’t even need to shave, he just has peach fuzz (but he borrows shiro’s aftershave to make it smell like he does)
> 
> \- josh keaton, shiro's VA, is half-peruvian & speaks spanish fluently. i just transferred that to shiro, like keith w/ steven yeun's facial hair growing dilemna. we haven't gotten any backstory for our space dad, so why can't he be japanese but raised by a spanish mom? :)
> 
> \- hopefully i didn't jump into the conflict too quickly. it was meant to kinda fly off the handlebars, but i hope it didn't happen too fast. allura isn't a bad guy, she's just concerned. like keith says later on, she tends to focus on the grand scheme of things, which is why she tends to overlook the smaller details. i hope she doesn't come off as some sort of villain, or worse. she's just trying to fight a war, and gets a little too absorbed in it sometimes. lance mentions that it's been a couple of hours since he talked to hunk, who was there right before The Argument, so she's had time to mull over her opinions and regret the way she worded things. that's why she does a heel-face-turn
> 
> \- keith is co-president of the Lance Is #1 fanclub, w hunk being the founder and other co-president. change my mind
> 
> \- look @ lance's vlog & see where he pushes his hair back for the first time? i never thought that i would Stan a fictional boy's widow's peak, but here i am
> 
> \- i hope the baby segments aren't too boring. i'm essentially pidge when it comes to babies. they make me nervous & i never want to have any of my own. so i have no idea how to...give a baby a written personality. i hope it turned out ok, but................who knows. give me feedback on that
> 
> \- please @dreamworks, give us a Hug Lance time


	3. Getting Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the team helps lance get supplies together. pidge gets stuck w babysitting duty

* * *

 

Two hours into babysitting duty, and Riel hadn't stopped fussing.

"What do you _want_?!" Pidge asked, voice high with desperation. "Please, tell me!!" When she recieved no answer besides another wail, she let her head drop down into the rumpled mass of blanket, and shouted her anguish into the sheets. Turning her head to the side, she wearily watched Riel from the corner of her eye. An analytical light shined in her gaze as she observed, lifting her head as she noticed a pattern. "What _do_ you want..?" she repeated, quieter this time.

Riel's hands waved toward the ceiling again, more cries escaping his toothless mouth as he reached for things that weren't there: Lance, his mommy, maybe even Keith considering how peaceful he was when the red paladin held him; spaceships and asteroids and planets and giant robotic lions--

Pidge's eyes snapped open. "That's it!" she shouted, rolling off of the bed and landing on her feet. She scrambled for the comm. device on her desk.

After a short conversation with Allura, Pidge was practically vibrating with excitement when Coran, looking kinda weary and very covered in dust, delivered the parts she'd requested. She slammed the door in his face, thrilled to get to work, but paused to shout an apology through the wall before running over to dump the parts on her desk, jumping into her chair and spinning in it once for good luck.

Pidge stuck her tongue out, wetting the corner of her chapped lips as she mapped out the spare parts in her brain. "Time to stimulate your mind with the power of engineering, you little shit!" she said, pointing firmly at Riel with her screwdriver. "'Cause Auntie Pidge is gonna make you the best goddamn mobile the universe has ever seen!"

 

* * *

 

 

"Riel needs clothes, toys, food, a place to sleep..." Lance combed his hands back through his hair, letting out a long breath. "And I need money to give him that." He looked over at Pidge, still standing on the other side of the couch. "Pidge, how much do you think my Mercury Gameflux II would sell for?"

"Considering you bought the console and all the games used?" Pidge adjusted her glasses. "Maybe 100 GAC, if you're lucky. Killbot Phantasm II or Dream Daddy haven't really hit it with the intergalactic crowd yet."

Lance slumped back against the couch. "I'm fucking doomed, aren't I?"

"You most certainly are not doomed." A hand gently touched his knee, and Lance glanced up from beneath his sloped brows. "Lance, remember that we all agreed to help you," Allura reassured him, her slender fingers leaving his leg to flutter back to her lap. "If you are lacking money, then we can lend help. We gladly will, if you'll let us."

"Yeah!" Hunk said. "I had, like, fifteen bucks in my wallet before we left! Maybe I can trade it in for a bunch of credits, or something. It might be worth a lot on another planet."

Lance smiled sadly at him. "Keep your fifteen bucks, Hunk. I appreciate it, though." His eyes skimmed over the rest of the team, lips thinning into a frown. "Maybe I could get some kind of part time job..? Would that work out, even though I'm an enemy of the most dominant empire in the universe and can never stay in more than one place? 'Hi, my name is Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron. I'm here today to try and earn enough to buy my son food and things he can play with, so make sure you tip handsomely! Could I start you dicks off with a nice wine, or any appetizers?'" He laughed mirthlessly, hands flopping uselessly after his gestures died.

Shiro frowned at the humorless joke. "Lance..."

"Lance, I think I might have a solution to some of your troubles." Allura waited until his eyes landed on her. "All of my father's old belongings are still stored in the upper decks of the castle," she began, crestfallen eyes dropping down to her hands folded in her lap. "During his lifetime, he was what you might call a pack-rat." A comforting hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and Allura smiled up at Coran's familiar, reassuring face, reaching up to pat his hand. "If he would like to join me, perhaps Coran and I could find some suitable clothes and toys remaining from my infancy. I'm certain my father kept some things, and my mother probably did, as well."

Lance's face softened. "Allura, I'm not gonna ask you to rummage around through your... late... father's belongings." He paused, hesitating on how to describe the deceased king.

Allura responded before he could continue much further. "You aren't _asking_ ," she corrected, "I am _offering_." Her smile was lopsided, heavy with the offer of giving away King Alfor's possessions, but light with the prospect of removing them from their dusty box prisons and giving them to someone who might actually use them. "Unless you are uncomfortable with... how would you say it... hand-me-downs that are ten thousand vargas old."

"Ones that are very pink, at that," Coran added. "The late queen was very... goth, I think you might say."

"No, no, no, don't get me wrong!" Lance waved his hands at their doubts. "I was born last in a family of five kids. Hand-me-downs are all I've ever known." Allura's face brightened marginally at that, and he scooted over to her, putting his arm around her shoulder. "And pink clothes are fine. My sister Rachel _still_ doesn't know that you can't put red and white stuff in the same load of laundry together, and she turns 21 in November." He smiled sideways at her. "I didn't have a single white article of clothing for my entire 18 years, until she moved out and my poor mom could finally do laundry in peace."

"Then it's settled!" Allura leaned into Lance's one-armed embrace. He gulped and subconsciously leaned back, blush rising into his cheeks at her closeness. When she rose, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Coran, let's make our way to the King's private storage pod."

"Yes, Princess!" Coran followed her out of the room, throwing one last wink back at Lance before vanishing down the hall.

Shiro cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Have you thought about where Riel is going to sleep?" he asked, settling down on the couch beside Lance. "Any sort of crib, or a cradle maybe?" Keith's head jerked up at the mention of the second word, glaring at Shiro from around Lance.  

"Uh...." Lance squirmed unconsciously under Keith's hot scowl, peering around his face. "Um..."

"I'll take that as a no." Shiro put his metal hand on Lance's shoulder. "That's alright, this whole situation was sprung on you kinda fast. You had no time to prepare, and on top of everything, you _fainted_ out of sheer shock. I would be overwhelmed too, if I were in your shoes."

"I-I didn't _faint_ , Shiro!" Lance protested. "I just.. passed out!"

"In other words, you fainted," Keith said dryly. He still sat at the end of the couch, curled up into the armrest, Riel blissfully ignoring the chatter and drifting off to sleep in his arms.

Shiro interjected, cutting an argument off at the pass. "What are you going to do about a bed, Lance? The nearest M-Class planet is full of bird people, and according to the ship's sensors and the galactic database of species, they don't exactly keep their babies in cribs. More like nests made of extra materials, in houses built into trees that are hundreds of meters tall."

"Yeah, man, and where are you gonna put it?" Hunk asked. "Your quarters isn't exactly family-sized. It's more like a bachelor pad than anything, with the TV and video games taking up half the space."

"I can move that stuff, Hunk. And I was thinking he might sleep in my bed with me for a few days until I can figure something out." Lance jiggled his leg, foot tapping rapidly on the ground, and looked down at his fingernails. Nine out of ten were perfect, glossed over and rounded into ovalish edges, but the left pinky was bitten down, ragged and short due to an old anxious habit. "But would that work out, you think? What if he falls out in the middle of the night? What if I roll over and squish him?" He let out a shaky breath. "Shiro, I don't think I could handle it if I squished my own baby in my sleep."

"You're not going to squish him, Lance." Shiro grabbed Lance's bouncing leg with his human hand, and dug his fingers into his kneecap. The panic creeping at the edges of Lance's mind eased back, the solid reassurance anchoring him in reality. "Here's what I suggest. We look up an IKEA planet, and order something from there."

"A _what_?" Keith asked incredulously. "There's IKEA in fucking _space_..?"

"Yeah! I saw some on the database last time I looked." Shiro's eyes were practically sparkling. "It's not _exactly_ like what we have back on Earth, because IKEA is a trademarked brand and all, and I also can't pronounce the _actual_ name, but it's a pretty similar concept."

Keith's lip curled back. "You and IKEA..." he muttered. "You must've been Scandanavian in a past life or something."

Shiro waved his disgust away. "Anyway, Lance, I was a champ at assembling IKEA furniture, back in my youth. And Keith is pretty good with his hands, too! We could probably put a crib together for you." Lance looked away, picking at an imaginary loose thread on the couch cushion, hoping Shiro didn't spot the way his cheeks flushed at the mention of Keith's... capabilities.

"Shiro, stop volunteering me for things," Keith scolded. The back of his own neck was prickling hot; _you did that on purpose, you dick_ , he thought, scowling at the older man.

"C'mon, Keith, it'll be a fun time with your cool...." Shiro paused."...mentor?” he guessed. He quirked his eyebrows at Keith’s scowl. “Older brother figure..?" Keith's glare intensified. Shiro raised his eyebrows higher. " _Father_ figure...?"

"More like _bother_ figure," Keith snapped, "because you're always _bothering_ me."

"Hey man, show your father some respect!" Hunk piped up.

"It's okay, Hunk," Shiro replied. "I take it as a compliment."

Keith shook his head. "Lance, come here and take your baby. I've gotta help Shiro settle on a crib and build it. He'll get too wrapped up in trying to pick the perfect one, and it'll never get done unless I pick one for him." He rolled his eyes. "And then _someone_ has to read the instruction booklet, because he sure won’t, and when he gets mad that the parts won’t go where he thinks they do, the ensuing ‘I told you so’ will be all the more satisfying.”

Lance scooted over to him and carefully extracted Riel from his hold. The baby blinked awake, slumber lost to the jostle of movement. Once his arms were free, Keith crossed them tightly, relieved to be able to do so once more. "Thank you, Keith," Lance said, looking up from rubbing his thumb over Riel's forehead. The unexpectedly shy way his mouth curled around Keith's name, the dark blue of his irises through his eyelashes, made the blush on Keith's ears spill down into his cheeks. "For, uh... talking to me earlier. And for holding Riel all this time, and agreeing to build him a crib, and...."

Keith's embarrassed scowl softened, turning into a small smile. "No problem, Lance. It's what friends do, right?"

Lance laughed quietly, eyes fluttering back down to Riel. "Yeah," he replied. A playful jab at how Keith _finally_ understood what friendship was sat on the tip of his tongue, but Lance gulped it back down, settling on another grateful smile. "Thanks again."

Keith stood quickly, suddenly unable to tolerate the pretty blue shade of Lance's eyes. "Thank me when the crib is done," he shrugged off. Without looking back, he marched over to the door, waving over his shoulder. He stalked past Hunk and Pidge, who exchanged knowing looks at the red tinge of his cheeks. "C'mon, Shiro, let's go. We've got a build to cradle. A crib! A crib, to... justhurryupalready!" 

Shiro jogged after him, throwing Lance once last wave before the doors shut.

"And then there were three," Lance announced, drawing one leg up and settling Riel into the space of his lap. He bent over and wiggled his slender fingers over the baby's face, and Riel grabbed onto his father's fingers, mumbling sleepily. "Just where do you think you're going, Pidgeon?"

Hunk pivoted on his heel, watching Pidge freeze, halfway out the door. "Sneaking out, Pidge?" he asked flatly, putting his hands on his hips. "Classy."

"Me? _Never_!" Pidge whirled around, waving her hands like she was clearing their doubts away. "Are you guys really accusing _me_ of trying to duck out of baby chores? Because that is just _low_ , my friends, very _low_." She grinned toothily, nervously glancing between Hunk's deadpan expression and Lance's dark smile.

"We'd _never_ do such a thing, Pidge," Lance soothed patronizingly. He stood and walked over to her, long legs carrying him across the room in a couple of strides. Pidge gulped at the gleam in his eye, a drop of sweat forming at the whining bundle wiggling in his arms. Tiny brown arms waved up and caught Lance's jaw, and he barely even blinked. "Considering you weren't sneaking out of getting the most important chore of all, right?"

"Uhh. Right!" Pidge swallowed at the grin crawling onto his face. "Which would be...?"

"Babysitting!"

"Baby _what_ -ing?"

"Hunk and I have very important things to do, and somebody needs to watch Riel," Lance said, nodding over at Hunk, who counted off on his fingers. "Stocking up on baby food, remodeling my room to fit baby stuff in it, washing the clothes and toys that Allura and Coran will bring us, making sure Keith doesn't strangle Shiro over the crib…” The two exchanged a look. "Making sure Shiro doesn't go crazy, trying to assemble it."

"Yeah, there was a wild light in his eye when he was talking about being a champ at furniture assembling," Hunk agreed. "There's definitely some dark history there. It's up to us to make sure it doesn't go south."

"I could watch them!" Pidge offered. "I'm pretty good at babysitting Keith! With Shiro there, it'll be a piece of cake."

"If you're pretty good at babysitting Keith, then watching Rielito will be a breeze!" Lance cheerfully fired back. With little more prompting, he shoved Riel at Pidge, and backed away before she could refuse him. "Just keep his head supported, and try not to swear. We'll take him back in a couple of hours."

Riel, fully awoken from being jostled, blinked up at her once, twice.

Then, he screamed.

"I never consented to this!" Pidge cried, raising her own voice to a scream as Lance and Hunk strolled out of the room. "Lance, get back here! Hunk, _please_! _You guys_ , don't leave me here!!" The doors hissed shut, and Pidge gulped again, looking down at the wailing baby in her arms. "Mommy..." she whimpered, watching the hours of free time she'd had crumble like dust before her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Pidge's grip tightened around her screwdriver, and she pulled it away from the tiny hole she'd been drilling to point it at Riel. "Hey, kid, can you put a fucking sock in it?" she snapped. "This is _your_ mobile I'm trying to build. The least you could do is show some appreciation for my craft."

Riel, an infant with no way to intelligently process her words, cried some more. He turned this way and that, wriggling against the walls of the pillow fortress she'd constructed to keep him from wiggling right off the bed like he'd almost done earlier. Lance, sensing that his demon spawn had almost died, burst into her room in a frilly apron and an overbearing parent panic, accusing her of being unable to do something as easy as watch a baby.

Well, she was regretting it now, but Katie Holt never denied a challenge.

 

* * *

 

 

"Lance, see? He's perfectly _fine_! Now can you please stop scowling at me?"

Lance furiously tapped his foot. "I _know_ something is up, Pidge," he hissed, angrily eyeing her where she held Riel, rocking him carefully. He pointed at her, one finger extended rather menacingly. Somehow, he managed to look threatening, despite the lacy yellow apron tied around his torso and the pink bandana around his head. "I _felt_ it, deep in my soul. And not so deep, too, considering we're telepathically connected."

Panic filled her, his suspiscious eyes opening the floodgates. "Your head must be messed up!" she remarked, a tad too loudly. Lance narrowed his eyes at her shrill response, and she coughed before he could protest. "Your baby mama probably did a real number on you, man, breaking a mind-meld so harshly like that. Plus, with all the stress of the baby, and what to do with him, I think you're just overreacting to a bit of separation anxiety."

"I think Pidge might be right, Lance." Hunk, bless him, appeared in the doorway behind Lance, dressed rather similarly. His apron was much less lacey, however, and his matching bandana was green. "You've been really jumpy ever since we started cleaning the room. No offense, I'm happy for you and I completely and totally support you, but you haven't shut up once about Riel since you handed him over to Pidge." He put a hand on Lance's shoulder, and gestured to Pidge with his other one. In it, he held a circle brush, the kind used to clean toilet bowls. Yuck.

Lance thinned his lips, letting the scowl fade into a frown of consideration. "You think so?" he asked, wringing his hands around the handle of his duster. A clump of it fell off and floated to the ground, lost in the debris covering Pidge's room. She curled her lip as she watched it fall.

Hunk nodded. "I think so," he confirmed. He squeezed Lance's shoulder. "C'mon, man, how about we take a couple minutes and get a drink?"

"Getting tipsy will not get the cleaning done, Hunk," Lance scolded, turning back to the door. He patted Hunk's cheek as he passed. "It'll only get your butt grabbed a couple of times."

Hunk rolled his eyes. "I meant non-alcoholic, Lance. I'm not a delinquent like you are." He watched Lance disappear out into the hallway, then whirled back on Pidge with such intensity, she jumped. "Listen, Pidge, you keep that freakin' baby safe and happy, or else Lance is gonna drive me crazy!" he hissed, wielding his circle brush threateningly at her. "He can feel every emotion that that baby does, and if he focuses hard enough, he can tell what he's doing. Meaning Lance really _does_ know if his baby is about to fall off the bed and into a sea of never-ending garbage!" His eyes hardened, shooting daggers at her.

Pidge gulped. "I didn't know that was how telepathic bonds worked."

"That's how _theirs_ works!" Hunk whisper-yelled. "I mean it, man, keep Riel _safe_!"

"Okay, okay!" As Hunk muttered to himself and jogged out after Lance, Pidge turned back to the bed and placed Riel near the head of it. She grabbed her pillows and swiftly stacked them into a protective barrier, reinforced by more pillows. Grabbing Riel, Pidge laid him down inside the fortress and drew back to examine her work.

Riel tried to twist onto one side, only to be stopped by soft, fluffy pillows. His lip wobbled. Pidge dusted off her hands, satisfied with her work.

"Time to get back to it," she announced to herself, turning back to her workbench.

 

* * *

 

 

"Aha!" Pidge straightened up from her desk, slamming her screwdriver down in excitement. The loud noise startled Riel, and he began a fresh round of crying. Pidge spun around at the stuttering breaths that indicated another cycle, ' _no no no_ 's escaping her as she carried her project over to the bed, hopping over the various clutter scattered across the ground. "Don't cry, Gabriel!" she pleaded, kneeling down on the bed beside the pillow fortress. "Look! Lions!"

Riel turned his head back to wail, but his eyes widened at the sight of what she dangled over his head. The bulb in the center of the ring flickered to life, and Pidge watched the show unfold. Five miniature holographs of the Voltron Lions circled over him, flying in their V-shaped formation down to his hands. The Black Lion led them past his nose, but the Blue Lion slowed, falling out of formation with the others. She drifted closer to Riel's nose, snout curiously raised as if she were sniffing him. Riel babbled, falling quiet for only the second time in two hours, and raised his hands to grab her. His tiny fingers passed right through her holographic body, and his lip wobbled. Blue opened her mouth, a quiet version of the real lion's roar leaving her maw.

Pidge watched wondrously as the Red Lion circled back around, stopping just next to Blue. He, if what Keith called it was anything to go by, dared to fly closer to the baby, arcing over his soft, wispy-haired head to float next to his shoulder. Red too let out a quiet roar, gently bumping his head against Riel's cheek, then pivoted around as the other Lions passed by once more.

Riel whimpered as they flew away, spiraling up toward the wire ring Pidge held. Blue ducked out of their formation once again, Red close on her heels, and circled around the baby's head. Riel giggled when the Lions roared at him again, and Blue nudged his waving hand affectionately before flying up to rejoin the others. Riel watched them go this time, babbling and raising his arms as he watched them circle above.

"Ho-ly _shit_ ," Pidge said. Her arm was starting to ache from holding the mobile at such an angle, but she couldn't find it in her to care. "I'm....a  fucking genius. Confirmed!"

Her eyes watched the Red and Blue lions as they trailed after the Black lion. "Confirmed," she repeated quietly. "Unbelieveable."

 

* * *

 

 

"Pidge? You okay in there?" Lance knocked on her door once again, brows furrowing at the silence he received. He exchanged a worried glance with Hunk, who shrugged. He pressed his ear against the door, his concern spiking significantly at complete quiet from inside. "Pidge, are you in there? I'm coming in now, so don't be getting undressed or anything, okay?"

"Why would she be getting undressed?" Hunk whispered. "She wears the same thing all the time. We all do!"

"I dunno!" Lance hissed back. "I always seem to walk in on women getting changed, for some reason or other." The biosignature pad appeared, and Lance pressed his palm against it, waiting for it to scan his hand and turn a friendly blue.

"Why are we whispering?" Keith, as always, refused to go with the flow when he thought it was pointless. He was irritable from the ordeal he'd just come from; he'd known Shiro would take assembling the crib too seriously. They'd nearly gotten into two different fistfights over it, and he'd gotten more dusty and oily than he would've liked. He could've gone without having to take another shower today, but whatever. "We're in the hallway."

"It's the mood, Keith," Lance replied with an eye roll. Regardless, he raised his volume back to normal, and took a half-step back as Pidge's doors slid open. "Pidge!" he called into the room, hands cupped around his mouth. "You in there, Pidgeon?"

Keith rolled his own eyes and shoved Lance into the room. "Go in, idiot," he grumbled. "She's either here or not, so just see for yourself."

Lance stumbled into the room, nearly knocked his feet from the force of the push. He managed to catch himself on the corner before he tripped and disappeared in the sea of clutter, righting himself and looking over at the bed. "Aw, _look_ , you guys," he cooed, glancing back at them. "Pidgeon really does care!"

Hunk glanced at Keith and shrugged, gesturing to the door with his arms. Keith brushed past him and walked into the room, peeking his head around the corner.

Pidge lay sprawled on her stomach across the bed, the baggy hoodie she wore over her pajamas twisted around her small torso. In her arms, she clutched one of the pillows that had obviously formed the wall of a once-mighty pillow fort, snoring into it. In the middle of the other pillows lay Riel, slumbering peacefully after crying for two hours. Above their heads spun a mobile, suspended by a wire of some kind, miniature Lions circling in formation over them.

Lance carefully walked over to them, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed. The tiny Blue Lion broke out of formation, circling around his own head. He chuckled and raised his palm, letting her land in the middle of it. "Hey, baby Blue," he whispered. "Watching over my boy?"

Blue nudged her head against his thumb, looking marvelously like an incredibly tiny house cat. She floated out of Lance's palm and circled around Riel's head, roaring at her paladin and bumping the baby's head with her own.

Lance's smile looked like it hurt his cheeks. "I can't believe Pidge made this for him," he said, voice lowered as he called over to Keith and Hunk. "How am I supposed to thank her?"

Hunk sidled up to him. In formation, the Yellow Lion looked over at him, but didn't break out of place behind the Green Lion, Black leading the pack as always. "Take your baby off her hands," he joked, voice almost inaudible. "And let her sleep."

Keith watched the four Lions still in formation. Red did not break rank, like Yellow, but Keith definitely felt his Lion's eyes on him. Curiously enough, another set joined Red's, and Keith noticed Black's head turn as she passed another rotation, following him as far as her neck would allow. "Come on, Lance," he whispered, swallowing under her eyes. It felt just as intense as the real Black Lion's stare, golden and judgmental, and he wanted to get away from it as soon as possible. "Let's try out that crib I just spent four hours building."

Lance patted the sleeping Pidge's hip. She grunted at his touch, curling away from him and rolling over onto her side, pillow drawn against her chest like a weapon. Snickering at her crazed mumbling, Lance carefully drew Riel into his arms, pausing to deliver a tiny kiss to the baby's forehead before standing and following his friends out of the room.

The mobile Lions continued to spin above Pidge as the doors to her room shut once more. Green broke formation to spiral down, circling over her paladin's head. The Lion's presence soothed Pidge's restless tossing, and she began to snore, finally relieved from babysitting duty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- i know pink is the altean color used to honor the fallen or whatever, but allura's mom wore a pink dress in the flashbacks we saw. is she a super mega goth? or is she just hardcore abt respecting the dead? who knows, not me
> 
> \- so yeah. i wanted to slip in a reference to adashi here, but i felt it would've been too....clumsy. but just know, shiro put together half of that apartment that we saw them in, and adam couldn't have been prouder. keith couldn't have been more disgusted 
> 
> \- was the lion sequence at the end too obvious? if so then good. lol. just in case it wasn't super clear, pidge jerryrigged a metal ring with the same kind of holographic tech the spacemap in episode 1 used, only i took some liberty and added a little more......hard light to the projections. i know, that shouldn't make sense, but it's space! what could possibly make sense in space! i do what i want, ok? 
> 
> \- in my original draft, the baby wasn't supposed to like pidge or shiro. like, at all. he was even supposed to think shiro was scary, and shiro would be extremely sad about that. but (shrug emoji) maybe i'll incorporate that in the future


	4. Show On The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance Suffers (part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last finished chapter!

* * *

 

 

The honeymoon stage ended quickly.

Babies were much harder to take care of when they were your own and not your older brother's. That was a fact that hit Lance like a freight train on the third night in a row when his beauty sleep was interrupted by a crying baby who needed to be burped. With the lack of proper rest, Lance couldn't even muster up a convincing smile or some idiotic joke. But now, he was practiced in the art of coaxing Riel into eating new foods; he could predict when Riel needed a diaper change just by the baby's expressions, and even Keith was impressed by his newfound skill at removing foreign objects - like Coran's ticker or an Altean letter block  - out of the baby's mouth without even looking.

But the wear-and-tear was growing more and more obvious. Lance would drift off in the middle of a conversation, eyes glazing over as his exhaustion caught up to him once again; he would move sluggishly, like he was treading underwater. His focus was so shot with a lack of sleep, once he'd forgotten to remove Riel from his jerry-rigged high chair, and walked all the way back to his room to put the baby down for a nap before he even realized that his arms were disturbingly lacking any signs of an infant. He'd run around the castle, hysterical until someone 'found' Riel and reassured Lance that no, he wasn't the worst father in the universe.

This went on for two weeks, before Keith finally had enough.

"Lance, you need to sleep tonight."

Assorted sounds of agreement arose from the team, sans Coran and Shiro. Allura, who was sitting and watching Hunk spoon-feed the Olkari equivalent of mushed peas to Riel, nodded. "You're dead on your feet, Lance," she commented. "I've never seen you look this awful, in all the time I've known you. And that's saying something."

"Gee thanks, Princess!" Lance slurred, grinning lopsidedly at her. "That means a lot t'me."

Allura rolled her eyes, and scraped her spoon around the container she held. Apparently, the Olkari counterpart of strawberry yogurt was bright orange with chunks of purple fruit in it. "You can barely keep your head upright," she scolded. "Lance, Keith is absolutely right. You desperately need some rest."

Lance jerked his head up from where it was slowly sliding off of his palm, snorting at the authority in her tone. "Me? Nev'r," he slurred. "Sleep is f'r dead folks. An' robots. And guess what, guys? _I am not a robot_." He lowered his chin down onto one arm and pursed his lips out, whistling a melodic tune.

Keith shook his head. "You do remember that you have an entire team full of people who agreed to help you with your baby, right?" he asked sarcastically. "Or are you too stupid with sleep deprivation to remember anything except how old you are?" When Lance shrugged, his frown sharpened. "You.. do remember how old you are, right?"

Lance sat up and blinked languidly, eyelids actually going one at a time. It would be comical if it weren't so pathetic. "I'unno," he mumbled, the words muffled by his mouth, pulled into an odd shape by his palm.

Hunk frowned up from where he was feeding Riel, unintentionally moving the spoon away. "Lance, you're nineteen," he said.

" _Ninety_?" Lance echoed shrilly. "Gee. Y'think I would'a 'membered ninety years..."

" _Nineteen_ ," Hunk corrected, obliviously drawing the spoon away from Riel once again. Riel irritably reached out to capture his attention again, and Hunk glanced back to slide the spoon into his waiting mouth.

Pidge snorted from her spot at the table, across from the delirious Lance. "Wow. Those satellite dish ears usually pick up everything for miles. When's the last time you slept?"

Lance frowned, squinting his eyes in thought. "How many varga are inna quintant again?"

"15," Allura answered.

"Then 40...7. 47, I believe."

Hunk's eyes bulged, and his hand jerked away from Riel once again. "It's been _three days_ since you've slept?" he repeated, voice shrill with disbelief.

Lance nodded, lowering his chin down onto his folded arms. "Three days," he confirmed, a wide smile crossing his face. Keith shot up from his chair, the antigrav keeping the chair afloat warping awkwardly as the chair scraped backwards. He strode around the dining table and yanked Lance's chair out.

"That does it," he announced. "Lance, you're sleeping."

Lance squawked when Keith bent and effortlessly scooped him out of his chair, throwing him over his shoulder. "Guys, help!" he yelped, feeling Keith's arm trap him around the waist. Lance froze when he felt Keith's bicep flex to try and keep his weight steady, blush quickly crawling into his cheeks. Keith took the opportunity of his stillness to move toward the door. Another flex of Keith's arm snapped Lance out of his muscles-induced reverie and he resumed his struggles, kicking his feet and wiggling furiously in his captivity. " _Traitors_!" he screeched, spotting Allura and Pidge as they exchanged a smug smirk. Hunk merely shook his head and turned away. Gabriel, his own flesh, blood, heart and soul, merely laughed at his expense. "I'm telling Shiro on all of you! Don't think I won't, because I'm _totally_ \--"

The doors slid shut, severely muffling but not completely silencing Lance's protest. Hunk sighed and offered the baby another serving of mashed peas. "Who has the sillest daddies in the universe?" he cooed, zigzagging the spoon toward Riel. "You do, buddy!"

"Truly the sillest," Pidge agreed, shaking her head. "Like, it's just ridiculous at this point."

Allura sighed, eyes lingering on the doors. "Here's to Keith," she announced, raising her near-empty yogurt cup in a toast. Pidge joined in her with her cup of coffee, and Hunk raised both Riel's spoon and his own glass of space orange juice. They all clinked their respective toasts. "May he see good fortune with getting Lance to actually rest."

 

* * *

 

 

"Ow! Lance, if you don't stop kicking me, I'm gonna--"

"You're gonna _what_?" Lance challenged, lip curled up into a sneer. "Tell on me? Too bad, I'm already telling on you, pal."

Keith groaned, rolling his eyes. "Lance, I'm trying to help you here," he said, tightening his grip around Lance's legs. The guy was proving himself to be incredibly squirmy, and his waist had already slipped over Keith's shoulder, so now Lance was hanging down, Keith holding him up with an arm around his thighs. "So just--"

" _I'm trying to help you here_ ," Lance mocked. "I didn't ask you to help me, Keith."

With a scowl, Keith freed his left hand from around Lance's legs and pinched his calf, hard. "Well, you're getting it anyways," he snapped, ignoring the exaggerated yelp of pain. "Allura was right, you can hardly sit up straight. Yesterday, you thought you lost Riel three times in a row. That's a lot of times to cry hysterically about losing your baby when you never even got him out of his crib before you left your room!"

Lance flushed, and rubbed the back of his neck. His face was beginning to prickle a bit from the blood rushing to his head; another part of it was the fact that he was dangling down right next to Keith's-- "No need to be an _ass_ about it," he muttered. "I'm stressed out, Keith."

"Exactly why I'm carrying you back to your bedroom, you dumbass!" Keith suddenly stopped, arms tightening around Lance's legs. He turned, and Lance lifted his head, finding his nose mere inches away from the handprint pad mounted next to his door. "Open it. My arms are getting tired."

"Oh, your poor arms," Lance jeered. "So _sad_..."

He let out a yelp when Keith's grip around his thighs loosened, nearly sending him crashing to the ground; a warning. "Fine, fine!" he squawked, his own arms instinctively wrapping around Keith's waist for support. Clearing his throat when he realized that his cheek was almost pressed to Keith's-- never mind, Lance loosened his own grip, and let himself dangle, craning his neck back to look up at his door. "Just back up a little bit, I nearly smashed my face on the pad." When Keith backed up with a put-upon sigh, Lance lifted his arm up to place his palm on the signature pad. Infrared light scanned over his hand, and the doors slid apart with little pomp or circumstance, quietly accepting his biosignature and letting him in.

Keith dumped him unceremoniously on his bed. "Sleep," he commanded, pointing firmly at Lance's three pillows. "Come out when you've slept enough to remember how old you are."

Lance reluctantly crawled up to the pillows. "I'm nineteen," he muttered. "Not stupid." Keith crossed his arms and waited, the only sign of any impatience being his tapping foot. With a groan, Lance buried his face in the center pillow. "Fine, I'm sleeping!" he yelled into the pillow. "Happy now?"

"Nope," Keith answered simply. "Take off your clothes."

Lance's head shot up from the pillow, and he gaped comically. "At _least_ buy me dinner first!"

Keith's cheeks went hot. "Not like that, idiot!" he snapped. "I-I meant--" His eyes snapped open wide when Lance rolled over onto his back, chuckling openly. Like Keith didn't have a dagger strapped to his person at all times.

"I know what you meant, dude," Lance snickered. His hands went beneath the hem of his shirt and unbuckled a belt that was haphazardly done to begin with, and Keith looked away, his blush growing oddly darker at the unabashed display. "You're too easy. It's impossible to resist a jab every now and then."

"And _I'm_ the ass? Ugh." Keith rolled his eyes, an excuse to avoid watching as Lance sat up, pulling his shirt off and flinging it into a corner of the room.

"You love me," Lance leered from his nest of messy, wrinkled sheets.

"You said it, not me." Keith watched a crumpled pair of shorts go sailing across the room. He turned around when the shuffling of fabric paused, and Lance settled down beneath the gray duvet that accompanied their soldiers' bunks. He tended to sleep on his stomach, which Keith just found baffling. "I'm still amazed you made it two days without dying. Usually, if you don't get your eight hours, you're the crankiest sentient being this side of Olkarion's third moon."

"Yeah, well..." He rolled over, facing the fall away from Keith, hiding his expression. "Some things are worth missing sleep over." Lance slid his toned brown arms beneath the pillow his head occupied, and finally let his eyes slide shut. He released a long sigh, one that was heavy with burden. "You know how it is."

Keith smiled sadly. "Yeah. I do." He spent a lingering moment watching Lance's broad shoulders shift beneath the blanket, head nestling deeper into the soft pillow, the tension slowly but surely unwinding from his body, before backing toward the entrance. He quietly asked the lights to lower to 10% before he stepped through the doors. "Good night, Lance," he whispered.

"G'night, Keith." Lance turned, smiling drowsily over his shoulder. "And thanks."

The doors cut off his view of the darkened bedroom, and Keith had to blink hard to bring himself out of the spell Lance's soft, lazy smile cast on him. Shaking his head to clear it, Keith turned down the corridor and made his way to the training deck, hoping that the gladiators would take his mind off of the valley between Lance's shoulder blades, his hair tousled attractively against the pillow, the sleepy dark blue of his eyes in the darkness of the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance slowly stirred, backing away from the edge of unconsciousness. He cracked his eyes open and found himself staring at the sliver of light coming from the cracked bathroom door. Groaning a little, he kicked the sheets away from his legs and pushed himself up onto his elbows, pausing to listen to the various cracks of his back when he stretched.

The floor was cool underfoot when he stood and stretched again. Lance scratched his chest as he sleepily trudged over to the bathroom to use it. His hand brushed over the side of the baby's crib as he padded by, and Lance paused when he found the bottom of it barren of any baby. That streak of panic that always did and probably always would occur when his child wasn't where he thought he was hit him, but without the dregs of exhaustion slowing his thinking cogs, Lance moved along to use the bathroom.

After relieving himself and pulling some clothes on, Lance left his bedroom and traveled across the hall, barely pausing to let the doors to Keith's room open before he slipped through them.

Riel was awake and recognized him when Lance approached the bed, reaching up and babbling for Lance. Lance smiled and bent down, gently removing the protective arm wrapped around him and hoisted him out of the curve of Keith's body.

"Why aren't you napping like Uncle Keith?" Lance whispered in his high-pitched baby voice, fluttering his fingertips along the ticklish side of Riel's chin. Riel laughed, head turning away to try and escape the tickling sensation. Lance took the opportunity to pull Keith's drool-soaked communication device out of his hands and return it to its likely spot on the dresser. "You should be in dreamland, mister."

At the sound of noise, Keith's eyebrows furrowed, and his snoring-like breathing quieted when he lifted his head. Lance tried to contain a snort when he blinked, eyes straining to try and focus.

"Lance?" he asked hoarsely. "What're you doin' in my room?"

"Don't worry about it, Keith," Lance replied, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous way Keith's choppy hair stuck up. "Go back to sleep, dude. I just came to get my baby out of your hair."

"He's not in my hair." Keith dropped his head back down onto the pillow. He didn't say anything else, opting instead to nuzzle his head into the drool-dampened pillow and bringing his knee up into the space where Riel had been. He was already back to snore-breathing when Lance one-handedly tugged the duvet around him, tucking the corner of it beneath stray arm.

Lance left Keith's room with a little too much hesitation, and padded toward his own once again, Riel's head leaned upon his shoulder. A tug on the corner of his mind made him pause just halfway between their rooms, and Lance closed his eyes to hear the distant purring more clearly, hesitantly following it like a compass needle.

His feet carried him down a well-traversed path through winding corridors and around corners, dim lights turning on at the sign of his movement and returning to sleep after he passed. Riel continued to snooze on his shoulder, drool soaking into his shirt.

The hangar doors hissed open as he approached, Lance hesitating at the automatic response to his presence. Riel in his arms shifted, apparently sensing his slight anxiety, and Lance shook his head slightly, focusing on the warm flame of fondness permanently lit in his chest.

The Blue Lion stood in the middle of the hangar, her hulking figure still and silent in the vast room. Her eyes were dark. Lance gulped, a strange knot of nervousness tight in his chest. His Lion would never be mad at him unless it was a good reason, right? Lance reminded himself that he missed the feel of flying with her, even if they were dodging white-hot lasers and ionic energy beams. Galra activity had plateaued off for the past month - that was the one Altean time unit Lance kept forgetting, so he'd grown used to measuring things in weeks - so there wasn't a mighty need to resort to the Lions, except for Keith and Shiro patrolling every other day. They each had paranoid tendencies that taking the Lions out quelled, and with a very fragile, vulnerable infant on board, Keith in particular kept insisting that they couldn't afford to relax much, despite the hypocrisy they fed to Lance about 'sleeping more' or whatever.

(Shiro had just laughed when Lance told him of the others' betrayal. So now, he was an accomplice to the league of traitorous jerks.)

Still, even with a lack of danger, Lance missed Blue. Before Delani, Riel's apathetic mother, abandoned him with Lance, Blue had seen him visiting daily, just to talk if nothing else. It was very important to Lance to spend time with his Lion. Additionally, she likely had very little clue as to why he'd ghosted her, and she deserved to finally know.

"H-hey there, beautiful," Lance called out, still lingering by the hangar doors.

At the sound of his voice, Blue's eyes lit up, golden gaze twinkling to life. _Lance_ , her voice filled his mind, and Lance felt an undercurrent of guilt run through him at the relief in her tone. _Where have you been? It has been movements since you come._

The guilt increased, and a barb of Blue's concern pricked him. "Well, gorgeous." Lance began to walk deeper into the hangar, the doors closing behind him. "I've been super duper busy, and haven't had the time to come visit. I'm sorry about that." He shifted Riel down from his shoulder, cradling the baby in the curve of his arms, and felt Blue's gaze leave him to focus on the tiny body he held. Her curiosity sharpened. "But I had a very good reason, I promise. This baby being left on my metaphorical doorstep has really put me off schedule."

 _Baby?_ Blue asked. _Baby like me?_

Lance flushed a little. "No, different baby," he replied. "You're my baby, Blue. But Riel is my literal baby, like... I made him."

 _Literal baby?_ Blue cocked her head with a loud mechanical clank. _I understand._ And Lance knew she did; in the corner of his mind, he felt her unquestioningly accept his answer. Her robotic body clanked as she shifted down on her belly, and Lance was hit with the scale of how giant she is again, when he barely stood taller than one of her claws. Riel's tiny body looked miniscule in the scheme of it. _I would like to meet literal baby. Does he have name?_

"Gabriel," Lance said softly, brushing a wispy curl off of Riel's forehead. "Riel for short."

 _Riel._ Blue tilted her head to see him better. _It is a pleasure, literal baby_ , she stated. When Riel continued to snooze, unreactionary to the giant robotic lion leaning down toward him, Lance felt a spike of confusion spear through him. _He is you_ , Blue said. She gave the other corner of his mind a tug for emphasis, and Riel's face pinched up, one curled-up hand lifting as if to wave away the disturbance. Lance's fondness swelled, and Blue reflected some confusion back at him. _Can he not hear me?_

"He probably can, but he's too little to properly understand," Lance reassured her. He continued and clarified, "Babies - young humans, at least - their brains can't understand words. We have to teach them when they're developed enough. Right now, he only understands simple feelings." Lance closed his eyes and concentrated on the affection he felt for the baby in his arms, Blue observing curiously. Riel turned his head into Lance's pectoral and snuggled closer, giving a happy sigh as the wavelengths reach him.

It was reminiscent of how he and Blue talked during the early stages of their bond; through projections, before Blue dove into his brain to learn some of the languages rattling around in his skull. Lance felt her understand his explanation, and he got the impression of her nodding without her actually doing so. _Like this?_ she asked, and sent some of the fondness she reserves for Lance over to Riel.

" _Perfecto_ ," Lance praised, feeling his smile grow as he received half of her projections. "Oh, Blue, he's gonna love you."

 _Bring him to me,_ she commanded, abruptly switching gears. Her mechanical mouth whirred as she opened it, the ramp lowering to the ground. _I want to see him closer._

Lance climbed up the stairs and into the cockpit. Riel, jostled awake by the bumping of his steps, blinked blearily, trying to look around at his new surroundings. The pilot seat called for Lance, and he sat down, already braced for it to move forward. Blue lights washed over him as the cockpit flickered to life, and Lance felt warm and comforted like his mother's arms were around him.

" _Rielito_ ," he cooed in Spanish, gently patting the baby's round cheek. "Wake up, baby. I want you to meet someone."

Riel cracked his eyes open again, and whined irritably, swinging his arm around and trying to swat Lance's hand away. Lance let him capture his fingers and squeeze them. He carefully looped his arm around Riel's head as he turned the baby around and seated him in his lap, facing him toward the dashboard. "Riel, this is your new mama," Lance introduced softly. "Say hi to Blue!" He lifted Riel's arm and waved it at the viewfinder, flapping his tiny hand toward the handles.

Riel babbled, seemingly irked by Lance forcing him into motion, and Blue's amusement bubbled through him like a brook. _Does baby want to fly?_ she asked through Lance's mind. The handles slid forward in their tracks, the grips turning sideways.

"Baby can't fly yet, Blue," Lance scolded lightly. He shifted his legs so Riel was balanced in his lap, and reached around the small figure to grab the handles. He chuckled and flexed his fingers around the handles, the familiar thrill rising within him. "But Daddy can do it just fine. What d'ya say about a little exercise? Some time to stretch our..." He paused. "...legs?" 

Blue's excitement swelled in his chest, ballooning as the runway lights turned on, and her engines echoed the purr in his mind. Lance thumbed the button on the side of the grips and activated the thrusters, pushing the handles forward. The acceleration shoved him back a little in his seat as they zoomed toward the exit and into the vacuum of space. Stars streaked past them, no more than lines of muted color as Lance and Blue soared, the Castle growing distant as they flew further away.

Lance glanced down at Riel as they flew. His tiny doppelganger's eyes were round and rapt as he watched the viewfinder blink and flicker with mysterious signals, and he stretched his arms out for the handles. "Leave the flying to Daddy, Riel," he chided, prying his fingers from around one of the handles to push at Riel's arms. "Don't be so eager, little man, you'll be doing it soon enough."

 _Baby is very yours, Lance,_ Blue said, and Lance smiled as her laughter reverberated through his mind. _I love him already._

"I'm glad you do," Lance said softly. His fingers tightened around the handles once again, knuckles turning white, as his guilt returned. "I'm sorry again for ignoring you, Blue. It took me a while to get in the swing of this parent thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I spent a full quintant and a half catching up on all the sleep I'd missed."

Her understanding and acceptance radiated through him, and he leaned back into the soft padding of the seat, closing his eyes as her reassuring purring thrummed through his tired body. _Stop apologies_ , Blue scolded. _I forgive you already._ An image of someone - a man, with a wide smile and twinkling eyes - sitting where Lance sat now, a lanky figure standing at his side and a tiny shape held in their arms, blinked through his mind. Lance blinked, surprised at the tears that sprung into his eyes. _Just like I forgave him._

Lance smiled softly at her memories. "This isn't your first run as Mama Blue, is it?" he asked. He relinquished manual control over to her when she offered, and took his hands off of the steering controls. "Okay, beautiful. Let's take a stroll."

 

* * *

 

 

"..ance? Lance, hello? Can you read us?"

"Is he sleeping again? I swear, he's the most stubborn sleeper in the universe--"

"Here, let me try. _Lance! Zarkon is attacking! We need you,_ now!"

A voice cut into his dreamscape, filled with fleeting images of someone Lance realized was the last Blue Paladin and what must be his family, and Lance jolted awake, his propped-up feet slipping off the dashboard as he straightened.

" _Already_?" he slurred, hands instantly flying up to keep the weight supported on his chest. Riel barely stirred where he slept, curled stomach-down on Lance's chest, tiny fist curled into the fabric over his father's comforting heartbeat, even as it picked up to racing speed. "How did he _find_ us?! We were just--" He froze, squinting his bleary eyes at the viewfinder, where a communication window was opened. He scowled at it, reaching up to wipe some drool away from his mouth. Hopefully, no one really noticed. "Pidge, that's not fffreaking funny. I could've had a heart attack! Then it'd be up to _you_ to raise this baby!"

Pidge rolled her eyes. "Please. _Keith_ would obviously raise him if you were gone."

Keith, standing halfway in the frame, blinked. "Huh..?"

She turned so Lance couldn't see her face. Keith's own face soured with confusion, and he shrugged at her. "What does that even mean?" he asked, too confused to be snappish about it.

Pidge made some sort of waving gesture between him and the screen, and Lance shrugged. "I'm lost, too, man. Pidge, start making sense!"

She whirled around to scowl at him. "You two are bigger morons than I previously thought."

"Guys, can we save this for later?" Shiro moved into focus from his place in the back, ignoring Pidge's muttering. ('If we save it for any later, we're gonna be useless old elderly people and they'll _still_ be acting like this....') "Pidge, don't joke about Zarkon finding us. Lance, we were calling to see where you were. Dinner was at varga 1100, but you never showed up. Hunk is..." He paused. "...upset."

"You're darn right I'm upset!" Hunk piped up from offscreen. Lance winced as he all but shooed Shiro out of frame. "I whipped up this awesome feast just for you, Lance, to celebrate your three month anniversary as an official dad, and you _miss_ it! Arroz con pollo, pumpkin flan... all your favorites, man! Do you know how hard I searched to find _space plantains_? I devised a way to fry them and everything, just like your _mama_ makes them, and you don't even show up to enjoy the fruits of my labor! How can you possibly appreciate the complex flavors I constructed when you have to _reheat them_?! Lance McClain, as soon as you get back, I'm gonna--"

"Hunk, buddy, I'm _super_ sorry," Lance cut in, using one hand to support Riel while push his palm at the screen. "I was introducing Riel to Blue, and we maaay have lost track of the time." He tilted his head down, giving the camera his best puppy dog eyes. "Please forgive me, pal."

Hunk's scowl slowly softened, the severe curve of his mouth flattening out. Lance fluttered his eyelids and stuck out his lower lip, willing himself to radiate apologetic vibes. It worked effortlessly, the product of being the youngest of five; Hunk sighed and the annoyance left his face completely. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, dropping his folded arms. Lance grinned and pumped his fist while Hunk's eyes were closed and resigned. "You'd better love and appreciate every single space plantain I put on your plate, mister."

"That's a deal, pal." Lance beamed at him. His eyes darted over to Shiro, who shook his head at the exchange. "But back on topic, I guess. Sorry I just sorta left without telling you, Shiro. I kinda.. fell asleep..."

Hunk stepped out of frame to let Shiro take the focus again. "It's alright, Lance," he said. "Just try to avoid mysteriously disappearing next time, okay?" He allowed a chuckle to emerge when Lance grinned and saluted him. It made an amusing picture, with the baby still in one  arm. "Get back safe, kiddo. You've got some truly delicious space plantains to eat. I just don't hope that you mind them being purple." He smirked as Lance's eyes went comically wide, and chuckled as he walked offscreen once again.

" _Hunk_!" Lance whined. "You let other people have plantains? And I wasn't even there!?"

Hunk threw his arms into the air. "I had to, Lance! They have to be eaten fresh or else what's the point? Right, Keith?"

Keith shrugged. "Shouldn't have been sleeping out in space if you wanted some."

Lance scowled, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Nobody better lay a finger on anymore of my space plantains, or else I'll summon my _mami's chancleta_ all the way from Earth and whoop your asses with it!" Lance carefully arranged Riel in his lap, leaning the baby's tiny body back against him, and reached over him to grab the handles. Blue perked up when she felt him activate the manual controls, and helpfully pulled up the route back to the castle. Lance all too gladly shoved the handles forward and boosted along the path. "No one will be safe from my wrath!"

Hunk half-turned around and smacked his own rear. "Try me, _Papi_ ," he taunted, throwing an arm around Keith's shoulders.

"Everybody beware!" his new ex-rival-cum-best friend - that's right, friendships ended with Hunk and Keith; Coran is his best friend now - teased, waving his hands mockingly. "Daddy's coming!"

"Blue, get these philistines off my screen, at once!" Lance commanded. Hunk's teasing smirk disappeared from view, and he shook his head in faux-disgust as their laughter faded to an echo. "Riel, your Hunkle and Just Keith are gonna be kicked out of our family. I hope you know that and come to respect my decision." He glanced down at Riel in his lap, and when big blue eyes stared back at him, his harshness softened. "Oh, alright. I won't kick them out. We'll just go visit them on Christmas and birthdays. Deal?" Lance dangled his fingers in front of Riel's face, offering his plan to the baby. Riel gladly took his fingers, and Lance mimed a handshake. "Glad you're amicable. Now, let's go get you some plantainas, _mijo_ , before my ex friends eat them all."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- lance whistles a song that's an allusion to this amv (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BZzYWRyLMU) 
> 
> \- lance is the youngest of five siblings, as confirmed by Lance's Story (https://www.amazon.com/Lances-Story-Voltron-Legendary-Defender/dp/153442539X). in canon, he shows some signs of this, i.e. mocking keith ("we need to focus" 'we need to fo-cus') and parts of his inferiority complex. i played it up a little bit, like with the fact that he's perfectly fine w/ tattling on people
> 
> \- i also had him play up his 'stupidity' a bit, which he doesn't really do in the show but. i digress. i feel like he's always been the class clown type, and tries to make it his own. that's what my significant other does, and he's the youngest of twelve, so i translated that to lance here
> 
> \- yes, they've interacted with the olkari at this point. and if you caught it in the other chapter, they've been to the space mall too. so this takes place vaguely at the end of s2, if you're really anal-retentive abt timeline stuff like i am
> 
> \- i've been meaning to write the part w lance, riel and the blue lion for ages. but i went w filler instead :/ shame on me. also, yes, blue showed lance the last paladin, blaytz. i went w the headcanon that the galra servant he flirts with in The Legend Begins becomes his mate (and also the founder of the BoM, but that's not important here) 
> 
> \- also, abt the blue lion, i went w the headcanon that at the start of the show, when their bonds are all fresh, the lions project images of their thoughts, but later on, their bond grows more complex and so do their means of communication. therefore, all of the lions know bits of human language through their links w their paladins (i.e., blue can understand lance's spanish thoughts and can talk to him in the same way)
> 
> \- on the subject of mamas, my oc for the mother probably won't show up again in this arc, aside from references. i know, it's not Great if i have to remind you about who this character is through fucking author notes, but this fic is mostly for exercise, so i'm not aiming for absolute perfection like i do w everything else. shrug emoji
> 
> \- i may or may not be taking some artistic liberties w the whole 'how babies act' thing. roll w me, ok? 
> 
> \- thinking about how hunk and lance have drifted apart during their time as team voltron makes me sad, so i kept them close together during this. :) sue :) me :)

**Author's Note:**

> \- Padre todopoderoso y lleno de misericordia, expulsa de mí toda enfermedad. Restaura la fuerza en mi cuerpo y-- = the first part of this catholic prayer for healing: Almighty and merciful Father, by the power of your command, drive away from me all forms of sickness and disease. Restore strength to my body and joy to my spirit, so that in my renewed health, I may bless and serve you, now and forevermore.
> 
> \- keith has a propensity to exaggerate a little when it comes to lance; he kicked sendak, didn't punch. lance threw up twice, not three times. et cetera
> 
> \- haven't tried mango slices w/ hot sauce, but i have authority from an anonymous source that says hot cheetos + strawberry gogurt is stan-worthy. i dont like either one, so i just shrug
> 
> \- sorry for the shoutout to the 80s voltron fight scene. i couldn't help myself, it's too funny 
> 
> \- shiro is an annoying older brother who knows that keith has a crush on lance. change my mind
> 
> \- also i don't know what kind of sword keith's bayard is. i tried to google it, in case some niche weapons expert already figured it out in some tumblr post, but after some googling, i found this sword (https://www.amazon.com/RO-Assassins-Online-Blade-Ragnarok/dp/B00ZGKMOLW) and thought it looked strikingly similar to keith's bayard :)
> 
> \- delani's inspo: https://www.deviantart.com/toherrys/art/commission-Avon-730590512


End file.
